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THE

OLD GUARD

A MONTHLY JOURNAL,

DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, SCIENCE AND ART,

AND THE PRINCIPLES OF

I776 AND I787

C. CHAUNCEY BURR, Editor.

VOL. IIL— 1865.

New York:
VAN EVRIE, HORTON & CO., 162 NASSAU ST.

PHILADELPHIA : J. TRENWITH. CINCINNATI : W. II. KELLER. CHICAGO :

J. R. WALSH. ST. L0UI3 : GEO. J. JONES. CHARLESTON, S. C. :

H. P. RUGQ. SAN FRANCISCO: WHITE & BAUKR.

ALPHABETICAL INDEX.

PAGE.

American Races ; 128

Abolition of Slavery Impossible 176

American Slave-Code 319

A Picture fcr the Capitalists ol the United

States 331

Apostate Dt mocrats 378

Anacreon, an Antidote lor Brutal Glory 466

Advice to those who think of Purchasing

Confiscated Lands 476

Aphorisms on Government 518

Brown, Old John, History of, by the Presi-
dent 324

Bad Policy of Salt Words in Hard Times 4G3

Close of the Years 180C and 1864 (poetry).. . 23

Civilization of the Tropics 25

Conspiracy in Congress 91

Colonial and State Unions 97

Conservative and Radical Democrats 185

Camp Vergera 264, 315

Constitution, The, to be understood only by

the Lights of English Law and Liberty. . .453
Cost of Loyalty to the People of England. . .460

Crimes of Modern Philanthropy 498

Camp Lee 553

Douglas's Suppressed Pamphlet 80

Difference between Government and Admin-
istration 200

Demoralization of the Clergy 637

Epigrams 330

Everett, Edward 138

Federal Adminis' ration keeping up the " Re-
bellion" 372

Free Labor 419

French Bastlle 514

paoe.

Federalists under John Adams .* 7

Female Parliament of Aristophanes 33

Financial Lying 43

Government, Civil Foundation of .. . . .404

General Cox's Plan 481

Hampton Court .116

Heathen Generals and Christian Ministers. .234

Ideal Republic .82

Italian Epigram 184

Johnson, President, Opportunity of 288

Juvinal'3 Satires and Modern Manners 217

Kentucky Resolutions 1

Kisses, Poetry of .76

Laughing at all the F00I3 187

Lessons of Liberty, from Napoleon 308

Lincoln and Maximilian .236

Maxims on Loye 39

Mexico, Downfall of 86

Meaning of the Phrase, ** People of the Uni-
ted States" 511

Massachusetts and Virginia 221

Murder, Progress of 229

Napoleon on Taxes 168

New England, Crimes of. 35

North Bankrupt in Honor 385

Old Guard, Commendations of 428

11.

ALPHABETICAL INDEX.

PAGE.

Patterson, Governor 5

Peer and Printer, 11, 57. 103, 155, 213, 251. 295,

345, 301, 485.

Puritan Insolence 138

Puritanism, History of 2S9

Provost Marshals .311

Puritanh in against Liberty 3G7

Puritan Philanthropy 424

President and State Aunihilators 473

Resolutions of '98, Basis of Union 1

Republican a Disunion Party 272

Right of States to Tax the Inc me on United
States Bonds 480

Sovereignty of States 8

Sovereignty of States Fully Considered 337

Secession, Have States the Right ot 50

Sbakspeare and the Greet; Poets 182

Selections from Queen Mab 269

Slavery among the Je <vs 319

South Pf or in Cash 5S5

Stanton, Song of. . . . • ; 4J6

Slaveocracy and Bondocracy 455

Six Cleopatras 475

Spirit of Freedom in the English Parliament
from 1641 to 179C 543

Taney, Chief Justice 138

Tariffs 145

Time>y Readings mm the Poets 232

Titles of Rare 0:d English Pamphlets 463

The Authors of the Federalist " Copper-
heads" 529

The Error of the South 566

Union, Disunion, and Ueunion 244

Union, Nature of : 433

Virginia Resolutions 8

Voices that are Gone (poetry) 32

PAGE.

War, Literature of 70

War of Taiiffs 145

War, The whole Coniinentlhreatened with.170

Wisdom in the Presbyterian Synod. 277

White Supremacy and Negro Subordina-
tion .193

Poetry—

Voices that are Gone 32

Alone wih Thee 38

A Lost Heart 69

Tbe Poets and the Gods 69

The Poet's Toast 69

Arabian Epigrams : 75

Song of the Ages 79

Fourteen 79

Down in the Woody Hollor 154

Epigrams from the Latin 1G7

Death fcnd Tenement Houses 174

Spanish Epigram 202

Old Tjmes 215

Bide Your Time 216

Epigrams from Martial 220

Jennie at her Toilet 263

The Belles of Glenly Waters 294

Song ot the Mountains 307

Mahomet's Paradise 344

Under the O d Elm Tree 357

Deceived Maiden 366

Meaning of '* No" 377

Poor Little Nelly 403

Love's Astronomy 423

The Bachelor a Snail..- 438

Phantoms 451

Standing Guard 458

Salome... 476

Sly Love 476

Oaths and Visions 496

The Soldier's Baby 510

Epigram on Wit 517

The Fickle Heart 536

Lessons of the Brooklet. 565

Editor's Table—

Pages 45, 93, 141, 189, 237, 285, 338, 381, 429,
477, 525, 571.

THE OLD GUARD,

A MONTHLY JOURNAL, DEVOTED TO THE PRINCIPLES OP 1776 AND 1787.

VOLUME III. — JANUARY, 1865. — No. I.

THE RESOLUTIONS OF 1198 AS A BASIS OF RE-UNION.

The Resolutions of Kentucky and
Virginia of 1798-9, have always been
regarded, especially by the Democra-
cy, as a sort of supplement to the Con-
stitution, from the fact that they were
drawn by the parties who had borne
a greater share in moulding the Con-
stitution than any other statesmen of
our Revolutionary period. Jefferson,
the author of the Kentucky Resolu-
tions, was the Father of the Declara-
tion of Independence, and he was the
acknowledged leader of the party
which held a commanding majority in
the Constitutional Convention. Madi-
son, the author of the Resolutions of
Virginia, has been called the Father of
the Constitution, These Resolutions
must be looked upon, at least, in the
light of a commentary upon the Con-
stitution, by the authors of that im-
mortal instrument. They were drawn
about ten years after the adoption of
the Constitution, and were, therefore,
almost contemporaneous with it. This
circumstance has imparted an authori-
tative character to these celebrated
Resolutions. And, just at this mo-

ment, they acquire new interest from
the fact that Vice-President Stevens
has, in a recent letter, declared, in ef-
fect, that all the difficulties between
the North and South may be amicably
settled on the basis of these Resolu-
tions. Indeed Mr, Stevens's letter an-
nounces that the Southern States are
simply contending for the principles
of these resolutions, and that when
the North acknowledges these princi-
ples every obstacle in the way of re-
union will be removed. This an-
nouncement on the part of the distin-
guished southern leader would seem
to bridge, at once, the bloody gulf that
separates the North and South. If
these Kentucky and Virginia Resolu-
tions may be the peace-maker, our
troubles ought to be nearly at an end,
because they have been the uniform
creed of the Democratic party, and of
more than seven-tenths of the states-
men of the North, down to the period
of Mr. Lincoln's inauguration. It' these
Resolutions will save the Union, it
will be very easy to stamp the brows
of the real traitors to the Union, by

THE RESOLUTIONS OF 1798

[Jan.,

simply finding out who rejects these
Resolutions, after they have received
the assent of nearly all the first states-
men, both of the North and South,
from the very beginning' of the Re-
public down to the fatal hour of this
sanguinary conflict.

What, then, are these Resolutions ?
What are their principles ? To an-
swer these questions, we must refer
to the events which called them into
existence. Their history is simple.
They were really a protest against the
usurpation and despotism of a federal
administration. They were passed as
measures of resistence to an attempt
to revolutionize the government of
these States. This we shall prove be-
yond dispute. Such, in fact, has been
the verdict of the whole country from
1798 to 1861. No party has dared,
during that period, to go into a popu-
lar canvass in opposition to the prin-
ciples of these Resolutions. They
were called into existence as a remedy
to the infamous Alien and Sedition
Laws of the administration of John
Adams, and the old federalists. These
laws struck down, not only the sove-
reignty of the States, but the liberty
of the individual. The passage of
these atrocious laws, with one fell
stroke, swept the State governments
out of existence, and by an act of
usurpation and revolution, centralized
and consolidated all power in the fe-
deral government. They gave the
President the power to override the
Constitution and laws of the States —
to banish from the country, or to im-
prison or punish whom he pleased,
without reference to the organic laws
of the land. The New England and
Middle States were burnt over, as with
fire, by this revolutionary fanaiicism.

The people, for the moment, were mad,
and seemed determined to throw away
all the liberties they had won in the
glorious struggle of the Revolution.
Those who had just thrown off the
weight of a constitutional monarchy,
seemed infatuated with a despotism
without a binding constitution, and
without any law except the unbridled
will and caprice of one man. It was
one of those hours of unaccountable
insanity which sometimes seize a na-
tion, and cause it to devour its own
laws, as the unnatural swine devour
their own young. At this critical
juncture the Legislatures of Virginia
and Kentucky came forward with a
bold and emphatic re-announcement ol
the sovereignty of the States — the
grand principle on which the Federal
Government was built, and from which
it derived all the powers it possessed.
The Federal Government, they con-
tended, possessed no original powers.
All its powers are " derived" " deligat-
ed," " granted" powers. That the pow-
ers of the Federal Government are not,
and cannot be sovereign, because they
are derived. That they are necessarily
limited, because they are "delegated"
That they are in the nature of a grant,
as declared in article first, section first,
of the Constitution. That the States,
therefore, alone, are the fountains of
sovereignty. They are the original
masters that delegate and grant to the
dependent Federal Government cer-
tain of their powers, according to their
own sovereign will. This is the spirit
of the Kentucky and Virginia Resolu-
tions. Logically, they are unanswer-
able. The fiifst Resolution of the Ken-
tucky series, drawn by Jefferson, is as
follows :

"liesolved, That the several States com

1865 ]

AS A BASIS OF RE-UNION.

posing the United States of America, are not
united on the principle of unlimited submis-
sion to the General Government, but that by
c mipact under the style anu title of a Con-
stitution for the United States, and of amend-
ments thereto, they constituted a General
Government for special purposes, delegated
to that government cett un definite powers,
reserving each State to itself the residuary
m iss of righ to their own self-government,
and that whensoever the General Govern-
ment assumes undelegated powers, its acts
are unath oxidative, void, and of no force ;
that to this compact each State acceded as a
State, and is an integral party ; that this
government, created by this compact, was
not made the exclusive or final judge of the
extent of the powers delegated to itself ; since
that would have made its discretion, and not
the Constitution, the measure of its powers ;
but, that as in all other cases of compact,
among parties having no common judge,
each party has an equal right to judge for itself,
as wdl of infraction as of the mode and mea-
sures of redress."

The third Resolution of the Virginia
series, drawn by Madison, is as fol-
lows :

" That this Assembly does explicitly and
peremptori y declare, that it views the pow-
ers of the Federal Government, as resulting
from the compact to which the States are
parties, as limited by the plain sense and in-
tention of the instrument constituting that
compact — as no further valid than they are
authorized by the grants enumerated in that
compact ; and that in case of a deliberate,
palpable and dangerous exercise of other
powers not granted by the said compact, the
Slates icho are parties thereto have the right, and
are in duty bound to interpose, for arresting the
projrdess of the evil, and for maintaining within
their respective limits the authorities, rights, and

liberties appertaining to them."

The great, the unanswerable point
of this resolution is, that the States
alone are parties to the compact which
formed the Union. The Federal Gov-
ernment is not a party to the compact
at all. It is only the recipient of cer-

tain enumerated powers, resulting
from the compact, which it is to exer-
cise as the agent of the joint sove-
reignty of the high contracting par-
ties, that is, the Slates. These alone
are sovereign in the whole matter. In
this compact the States surrendered
no fraction of their sovereignty. They
simply agreed that in certain matters
the sovereignty of each State should
be exercised jointly by the general
agent, or Federal Government, for the
common good. Mr. Madison, in ano-
ther place, distinctly says : " A dele-
gated power is not a surrendered power."
This is self evident. To deny it is to
prove one wanting in common intelli-
gence. There is a painful degree of
stupidity in the talk we sometimes
hear about States having surrendered
a portion of their sovereignty to the
Federal Government. It is the nature
of sovereignty that it cannot be di-
vided and surrendered, any more than
a man's will can be cut up into parts
and given away. A man's will can
delegate powers to another, to act by
its authority, but it cannot give itself
away. The will is the sovereignty of
the man. This will is none the less
the inalienable property of the man,
after he has imparted to others the
power to do business in his name, than
it was before such power was dele-
gated. Sovereignty is the will of the
State. It is indivisable, and incom-
municable, like the will of a man. and
cannot be less sovereign from having
delegated its powers. As the Father
of the Constitution truly says : " A
delegated is not a surrendered power."
On this great truth hangs the whole
theory of the Federal Government, as
it was understood by those who made
it, and by the States, which by an act

THE RESOLUTIONS OF IT 98

[Jan.,

of sovereignty adopted it. This is the
phylosophy of the Kermtucky and Vir-
ginia Resolutions of 1798. They are
simply a re-affirmation of the sovereign-
ty of the States. We trace this princi-
ple through every step in the forma-
tion of the Federal Government. It
was annnounced in the Declaration of
Independence, when it was declared
that " these united colonies are, and
of right ought to be, free and inde-
pendent States.17 It was confessed by
the King of England in the treaty of
peace of 1783, when he acknowledged,
and named, each of the States sepa-
rately, as a party to the treaty. It
was again re-affirmed, when the Union
was first formed, in the Articles of
Confederation.

Article I. declares that, " The style
of this Confederacy shall be ' The
United States of America.7 "
Article III. sets forth that —
"The said States hereby severally enter
into a firm league of friendship with each oth-
er for their common defence, the security of
their liberties, and their mutual general wel-
fare, binding themselves to assist each other
against all force offered to, or attack made
upon them, on account of religion, sovereign-
ty, trade, or any other pretence whatever. "

This, we say, defines the nature of
the Union, beyond cavil. It is a league
of friendship between the parties, the
several States — entered into for the
common defense of the States — for the
security of the States — for the liberties
of the States — for the mutual and ge-
neral welfare of the States. The States
were the parties to the Union, or the
league of friendship, as States. The
Federal Government was formed, not
for its own aggrandizement and glory,
but to be the agent or servant of the
States, for their mutual general wel-
fare."

It would seem that the man who
pretends to doubt that-the Union is of
the nature of a league between sove-
reign States, must be either a block-
head or a knave. There is no possi-
ble ground to doubt. On the question
of sovereignty, Article II. is still more
explicit :

"Art. II. Each State retains its sovereign-
ty, freedom, and independence, and every
power, jurisdiction and right, which is not
by this confederation expressly delegated to
the United States in Congress assembled."

These articles of the confederation
which actually formed the Union, are
simply, in principle, the Kentucky and
Virginia Resolutions. But those who
traitorously seek for an excuse to re-
volutionize this Union of sovereign
States into a consolidated despotic go-
vernment, tell us that the character of
the Federal Government was chang-ed
by the adoption of the new Constitu-
tion in 1787. This is not true. In no
sense, and in no degree, is it true.
The Convention which was called in
1787 was not assembled for the pur-
pose of changing the character of the
government which our fathers had es-
tablished in 1778, but to make certain
alterations and amendments to the ar-
ticles of confederation, in order to en-
able the Federal Government to pro-
vide more effectually for the payment
of the common debt, and especially
for the better regulation of our com-
merce and relations with foreign
States. There was no proposition, in
the call of the newConvention, to effect
the least change in the structural prin-
ciples of the Federal Government.
Least of all did any abridgement of
the sovereignty of the States enter in-
to that call. Not a single State would
have responded to the proposition for

1865.]

AS A BASIS OF RE-UNION.

a Convention bad that been the case.
It is true that a small and quickly re-
buked and defeated party appeared in
the Convention with a proposition to
so far alter the Federal Government
as to elect the President and Senate
for life. This plan received no votes
in the Convention. When a resolution
was before the Convention that " a
national government ought to be form-
ed," it was promptly met by a counter
resolution to strike out the word " na-
tional/7 and insert in its place " United
States. This resolution to expunge
the words national government, passed
unanimously, without debate. So jea-
lous were the States of losing the
least fraction of sovereignty, that they
would not allow the word national a
place in the Constitution. There is no
such body politic known to this coun-
try as a national government. It is a
"federal government" a government of
14 United States." That is the name
and style of the only general govern-
ment these States have ever formed.
The followiug remarks of Gov. Pat-
terson fully express the sense of the
Convention, and of the States which
had assembled the Convention :

" Let us consider with what powers we are
sent here. The basis of our present autho-
rity is founded on a revision of th3 articles
of the present confederation, and to alter or
amend them in parts where they may appear
defective. Can we on this ground form a
national government? I fancy not. Our
commissions give no complexion to the busi-
ness ; and we cannot suppose that when we
exceed the bounds of our duty the people
will approve our proceedings. We are met
Jjcre as the deputies of thirteen independ-
ent sovereign States, for federal purposes.
Can wo consolidate their sovereignty, and
form one nation, and annihilate the sove-
reignties of our States, who have sent us
here lor othe: purposes ? l>ut it is said thia

national government is to act on individuals,
and not on Stales ; and cannot a federal gov-
ernment be so framed as to operate in the
same way? It surely mty. I, therefore, de-
clare that I never will consent to such a sys-
tem. Myself or my State will never submit
to tyranny or despotism"

Mr. Wilson, of Pennsylvania, who
wanted a stronger government than
the majority of the Convention would
consent to form, said : " No liberty
can be obtained without the State go-
vernments. On this question depends
the essential rights of the general go-
vernment and the people." Indeed
there was no party in the Convention
that dared propose to touch the sove-
reignly of the States. The sovereignty
of the States was, to the system of
government framed by our fathers,
what the heart is to the human frame.
We cannot meddle with the functions
of either, without bringing the sys-
tems, of which they are the respective
centres, to an end. It is common in
these days to hear politicians and mi-
nisters, and other foolish people, talk
about " the pernicious doctrine of
State sovereignty." Why, but lor the
sovereignty of the Stages, the Federal
Government were as baseless as a
dream. It is of no binding effect upon
anybody, except as the creature and
agent of sovereign States, which had
a right to ordain just such a govern-
ment as their sovereignty pleased. In
the Convention of Virginia, which had
under consideration the adoption of
the Constitution, Mr. Madison, while
explaining that instrument, which he
had done so , much to shape, said :
" Who are the parties to the govern-
ment 't The people ; but not the peo-
ple as composing one great body ; but
the people, as composing thirteen socc-

THE RESOLUTIONS OF 1798

[Jan.,

reignties" Here we have the doctrine
of the Kentucky and Virginia Resolu"
tions in a few simple words. Mr.
Charles Pinckney, of South Carolina,
moved, in the Federal Convention, to
add to the powers of Congress this
passage : " To negative all laws pass-
ed by the several States interfering, in
the opinion of the Legislature, with
the general interests and harmony of
the Union." Mr. Rutledge replied :
" If nothing else, this alone would
damn, and ought to damn, the Consti-
tution. Will any State ever agree to
be bound hand and foot in this man-
ner V The resolution was withdrawn;
it could not have obtained the vote of
a single State in the Convention. The
reason was that it was not the inten-
tion of the States to part with any
fi action of their sovereignty in forming
a federal government. This explains
the strong language of Mr. Madison
in the following words :

•■' Any government for the United States
formed on the supposed practicability of
using ^military) force against even the un-
constitutional proceedings of the States,
woUid be visionary and fallacious. '

This reasoning on the part of the
Father of the Constitution, is necessa-
rily correct' from the fact that the
States, being sovereign bodies, no co-
ercion can be applicable to them. It
is the quality of sovereignty that it
has no master. These States, being
sovereign, have no master. The Fede-
ral Government is their servant, and
not their master. The proposition was
twice introduced in the Constitutional
Convention to clothe the Federal Gov-
ernment with power to use the army
and navy ot the United States against
a non-complying State, and in neither
instance did tne proposition receive

the vote of a single State No dele-
gation would have dared to return to
its State after having voted for such
a resolution. Col. Humphreys, writ-
ing to General Washington, under
date of January, 1787, thus describes
the temper of the States : " They have
a mortal reluctance to divest them-
selves of the smallest attribute of in-
dependent, separate sovereignties.^
Of course such States would never
clothe the Federal Government, which
they were voluntarily erecting, with
the right to wage war upon them, from
any consideration whatever. They
never did impart to the Federal Gov-
ernment such a right. The Constitu-
tion itself is an eternal witness that
no such power was ever granted.
Even Mr. Lincoln, when he commenced
this war, had not the hardihood to
pretend that he had a warrant for his
action in the Constitution. He based
his first call for soldiers upon an old
defunct law of Congress — dead from
its own limitations — passed to aid the
State of Pennsylvania in putting down
a whiskey rebellion in IT 95. It was
ridiculous enough to see seventy live
thousand men called to arms, under
this defunct, anti-whiskey rebellion
aet ; but it was a thousand times less
offensive, and less culpable, than to
have pretended that the Constitution
gave warrant for such proceeding.
This much we take pleasure in passing
to Mr. Lincoln's credit. And on this
point he is certainly a bettor lawyer
than Gen. McClelLan, who appears to
be laboring under the delusion that
the Constitution gives the Federal
Government the right to carry on a
gigantic war against a portion of the
States which made it. Mr. Elsvvorth
and Mr. Sherman, members of tne Con-

1865.*

AS A BASIS OF RE-UNION.

stitutional Convention for the State of
Connecticut, wrote to Gov. Hunting-
ton, after the Federal Constitution was
completed, as follows :

" Some additional powers are vested in
Congress, which was the principal object the
States had in view in appointing the Con-
vention ; those powers extend only to mat-
ters respecting the common interests of the
Union, and are specially denned, so that the
particular States retain their sovereignty in.
other matters."

This, again, is precisely the doctrine
of the Kentucky and Virginia Resolu*
tions ; and had we space to dwell
longer on the debates in the Constitu-
tional Convention, we should see the
same principle presented in every pro-
position advanced by the States re-
presented in the Convention. Mr. Ma-
dison said :

" The Constitution will not be a national,
but a federal act. That it will be a federal,
and not a national act, is obvious from this
single consideration, that it is the result nei-
ther of the decision of a majority of the peo-
ple of the Union, nor/ that of a majority of
the States. It results from the unanimous
assent of the several States that are jaarties
to it"

Again said the same great authori-
ty in another place i

"A compact between independent sove-
reigns, founded on acts of legislative autho-
rity, can pretend to no higher validity than
a league or treaty between the parties. * * *
The Constitution of the United States was
formed by the sanction of the States, given
by each in its sovereign capacity. * * The
States, then, being the parties to the Consti-
tutional compact, and in their sovereign ca-
pacity, it follows, of necessity, that there
can be no tribunal above their authority to
decide in the last resort, whether the coin-
pact made by them be violated, and conse-
quently that, as the parties to it, they must
themselves decide in the last resort, such
questions as may bo of sufficient magnitude
to require their interposition."

Such are the words, not of latter-
da}'' politicians and demagogues, but
of the wise and patriotic men who
formed our government. This is the
interpretation which the authors of the
Federal Constitution gave it at the
very hour of its establishment. There
is no appeal from such authority. If
we are not to take the Constitution as
it was understood and explained by
those who made it, what lights shall
we follow ? Shall we turn away from
the councils of our fathers, who estab-
lished this grand confederation of
States, to be led by the shallow dema-
gogues or traitorous impostors, who
are striving to overthrow the sublime
edifice ?

We have now traced the principles
of the Kentucky and Virginia Reso-
lutions from the Declaration of our In-
dependence to the establishment of
the Union in 1778 ; and from that pe-
riod to the adoption of the Constitu-
tion in 1787. V\re see that these prin-
ciples underlie the whole theory of
government on which the federal edi-
lice was built. State sovereignty is
the soul of the system. The Federal-
id, cotemporaneous with the Consti-
tution, the joint work of Madison and
Hamilton, No. 40, says :

" We have seen that in the new govern-
ment, as in the old, the general powers are
limited ; and that the States, in all unenu-
merated cases, are left in the enjoyment of
their sovereign and independent jurisdic-
tion."

In 1798, the Federalists, under John
Adams, attempted to revolutionize the
government by overthrowing the so-
vereignty of the States, and consoli-
dating their powers in the Federal
Government. This bold and treache-
rous attempt was met, as already sta-

THE RESOLUTIONS OF 1798

[Jan.,

ted, by the Resolutions of the Legis-
latures of Kentucky and Virginia,
which were simply a declaration of
the principles which led to the inde-
pendence of the colonies, and to the
establishment of the Federal Consti-
tution. The following year was the
Presidential election, in which the
question was referred to the arbitra-
tion of the people, between Mr. Jeffer-
son and Mr. Adams. Mr. Jefferson
carried the old banner of State sove-
reignty as set forth in the Resolutions
of Kentucky and Virginia. Mr. Ad-
ams held the new revolutionary flag of
consolidation and State subordination.
Jefferson and State sovereignty won,
and Mr. Adams and his party of conspi-
rators were buried so deep in the con-
tempt of the people that they never
came to the surface afterwards. From
that period to the inauguration of Mr.
Lincoln, State sovereignty was the ad-
mitted popular doctrine of all parties.
It was affirmed even by the Chicago
Convention which nominated Mr. Lin-
coln, which pledged that the Republi-
can party would " maintain inviolate
the rights of the States, and especially
the right of each State to order and
control ito own domestic institutions,
according to its own judgment exclu-
sively." True, this declaration, from
such a party, was a fraud — was meant
to cheat and deceive the people ; but
it is proof that no party dai ed to go
before the people on any other plat-
form than that of faithfully maintain-
ing the sovereign rights of the States,
even down to that late period.

In 1803 the people of Boston memo-
rialized the Legislature of Massachu-
setts against the embargo measures
of the federal administration, in these
words :

" Our hope and consolation rest in the Le-
gislature of our State, to whom it is compe-
tent to devise means of relief against uncon-
stitutional measures of the Government ;
that your power is adequate to this object, is
evident from the organization of the Confe-
deracy."

The same year Mr. Hillhouse, of Ct.,
in a speech in the United States Se-
nate, denounced the embargo as " an
act containing unconstitutional pro-
visions, to which the people are not
bound to submit, and to which, in my
opinion, they will not submit.'* This
ground was assumed by the legisla-
tures of most of the New England
States in 1801, in 1809, in 1811, and
by all of them in 1814. It was af-
firmed by their leading statesmen in
both branches of the Federal Legisla-
ture. And this is neither more nor
less than the doctrine of the Kentucky
and Virginia Resolutions. It was of-
ten affirmed by John Quincy Adams.
It was practically acted upon by him,
when he was President of the United
States, in his treatment of the resist-
ance in Georgia to federal requisitions
in 1821. In his message to the Con-
gress of that year he said ;

"In abstaining, at this stage of the pro-
ceedings, from the application of any mili-
tary force, I have been governed by conside-
rations which will, I trust, meet the concur-
rence of the Legislature. Among these, one
of prominent importance has been, that
these surveys have been attempted, and part-
ly effected under color of legal authority from
the State of Georgia ; that the surveyors are,
therefore, not to be viewed in the light of in-
dividual and solitary transgressors, but as
the agents of a sovereign State, acting in obe-
dience to authority which they believed to
be binding upon them.'*

This is to the point. The President
refused to send an armed force against
men who were resisting the federal

1865.1

AS A BASIS OF RE-UNPN.

laws in Georgia, because they were
acting by the authority of their sove-
reign Slat% No statesman in the whole
country found fault with Mr. Adams
at that time. The truth is that all
parties then admitted the entire truth
of the doctrine of State sovereignty, as
embodied in the Kentucky and Virgi-
nia Resolutions. In 1821 the follow-
ing resolution was passed by the Le-
gislature of Ohio :

"Resolved, That in respect to the powers
of the governments of the several States
that compose the American Union, and the
powers of the Federal Government, this Ge-
neral Assembly do recognise and approve the
doctrines asserted by the Legislatures of Vir-
ginia and Kentucky in their resolutions of
November and December, 1798, and January,
1800, and do consider that their principles
have been recognized by a majority of the
American people."

The doctrine of these resolutions was
clearly involved in Mr. Seward's letter
of introduction to Mr. Judd, minister
to Prussia, dated Washington, March
22d, 1861, and in that to Mr. Adams,
minister to England, under date of
April 10th, 1861. Did the limits of
this article permit, we could give ex-
tracts from the speeches of such lights
in the Republican party as Wendel
Phillips, Gerrit Smith, Abraham Lin-
coln, Horace Greeley, Charles Sumner,
and, indeed, of all the leaders of that
party, showing that they stood upon
the doctrine of the Kentucky and Vir-
ginia Resolutions up to the very hour
when they broke away from them, to
commence this war. Indeed it would
be a task involving much labor to find
out who did not stand upon the basis
of those resoiutions. Mr. Sumner
used to employ his time in the Senate
of the U. States in advising the peo-
ple to resist the fugitive slave law of

Congress on the ground that it viola-
ted the sovereignty of the States. At
one time he denounces this law as an
"offensive encroachment on the rights
of the State*." Again, he calls it " an
assault on State rights" — " not only an
assumption of power by Congress, but
an infraction of State rights.11 Still
again as follows: "And now, almost
while I speak, comes the solemn judg-
ment of the Supreme Court of Wis-
consin, a sovereign State cf the Union,
declaring this to be a violation of the
Constitution." This is the way Mr
Sumner, and all his party used to talk,
in the highest assertion of State sove-
reignty, before they plunged the coun-
try into this horrible strife. Every
Republican State in the Union had
passed acts not only nullifying the
laws of the Federal Government, but
severely punishing their citizens both
with fine and imprisonment if they
obeyed certain acts of Congress. Be-
hold how great and how sudden the
change ! From having stunned the
people with a monotone cry for State
rights, we now hear Sumner's hoarse
voice croaking about " the miserable
pretension of State sovereignty11 and the
"pestilent pretension of State rights11
How do we account for this change ?
Why, on no other ground than that
these last utterances are made after
he has entered into a conspiracy to
overthrow the government of the
United States, as it originally existed,
as the creature of the sovereign States.
Amazing to see how even silly women,
and still more silly ministers and coun-
ter-junipers, and learned measurers of
tape and bobbin, and horse-jockeys,
suddenly advanced to the sublime de-
gree of government contractors, join
in the sudden howl about " the pcslden*

THE RESOLUTIONS OF 1798, &C.

fJan.,

tial doctrine of State rights /" It is as
if a whole nation were moon-struck in
a single hour. A man who retains his
senses finds it difficult to persuade him-
self that he is living in the United
States. Even the faces of the parti-
zans of this conspiracy against the so-
vereignty of the States seem to have
changed to suit the violence of their
principles. We meet them on the
streets, but we do not know them.
They weai the visages of the man-eat-
ing Feejee Islanders, or of the Fuegi-
ans of Terra del Fuego. We instinct-
ively cast our eyes to the right side of
their heads to see if they have not a
horn, like the Papaun, growing there.
Are these the men whom we used to
meet as gentlemen but three years ago ?
The imagination is bewildered in try-
ing to conceive of a revolution so sud-
den, and so deplorable.

But how stands the Democratic par-
ty in all this falling away from the
principles and manners of our fathers ?
If we should blush to have an enemy
answer this question, with what pain
must we answer it ourselves? The
Democratic party which, from its foun-
dation, has known no other creed, on
the subject of Slate rights, than the
Kentucky and Virginia Resolutions !
The Democratic party, which, indeed,
had its birth in those resolutions 1 The
Democratic party, which won all its
proudest triumphs on those resolutions!
The Democratic party, which has slough-
ed off from its mountain heights into
the slimy pools and oozy bottom lands
in the Congo marshes ! We instinctive-
ly vail our face as we record the shame-
ful fact that the Democratic party, as
it was misrepresented at Chicago, de-
nied its own father and mother — the
Resolutions of '98. It stands to-day in

no other light than a parricide ; un-
less, indeed, it be a suicide. Who
were the men that run that Convention
to such an impotent conclusion ? Were
they Democrats ? Had they any inter*
est in the Democratic party, except as
it can be used for the benefit of banks,
railroads, canals, and speculators ?
Men sound enough in finance, but bank-
rupt in character and intellect. Great
in bullion, but little in sense. Never
before, since the world began, was so
vast an intellectual business under-
taken on so small a mental capital. In
vain we warned the over-confident spe-
culators that they must fail. They have
failed. Will this failure rid the Demo-
cratic party of their council and con-
trol for the future ? If it does not,
then there will never be a Democratic
party again. The principles of Demo-
cracy were not before the people at all
in the late Presidential canvass. They
have not been tried by the late vote,
for they were not on trial. Let them
now, at once, be put on trial before the
people. Let the Democracy that was
born with the Resolutions of '98 fling
out its glorious old banner to the popu
lar eye. The people will honor it, and
will begin to rally under it in order to
save the name and principles of Demo-
cracy from being lost in the North.
And whenever the Democratic party
can bring the northerh States back up-
on the old ground of the Resolutions of
'98, if we may believe Vice-President
Stevens, the Union will be restored. To
go back to these resolutions is only to
return to the principles of government
which established the Union. The man
who refuses to re-affirm these principles
is a foe to the Union. If not an Abo-
lition conspirator in principl ',, he is so
by affiliation. He is neither a Demo-
crat nor in the company of Democrats.

1865.]

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER*

A NOVEL.

UY THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH.

CHAPTER I.,

Which introduces a nice little girl, and an accident

I must have been about eighteen
years old, or thereabouts, when, on a
holiday in June, I walked out, and
strolled by the high road to the coun-
try beyond Puttenharn. The highway
led me to a common over which it
crossed ; and there, musing over the
commonplace events of the week, I
wandered over the knolls of gravelly
soil, and among the furze-bushes, watch-
ing the doukies as they cropped the
scanty blades of grass, and indulged
occasionally in a tit-bit, in the way of
a juicy thistle. Tired at length, 1 sat
me down to rest under a thorn-bush
by the road-side, and was thus seated
When I heard the sound of voices.
Looking up, I saw a man approach,
who was leading by the hand a little
girl who appeared to be about ten
years of age. I was struck with the
appearance of the couple, and so scan-
ned them closely.

The man was short, thick-set, and
well-stricken in years. He was clad
in a plain suit of black, considera-
bly worn, and much dusted by travel;
and he wore a black felt hat, with a
very wide brim. His complexion was
swarthy, and his eyes were keen and
deeply set beneath long and bushy
eye brows. On his face he wore a

thick, grey moustache — a thing quite
uncommon in England at that time.
In fact, it was the first I had ever
seen off the stage of a theatre. His
hair was jet blaek in color, streaked
here and there with white, ami fell in
glossy curls to his shoulders ; but
when he removed his hat for a moment
to wipe the perspiration from his fore-
head, I noticed that the hair in a wide
circle over the crown was not over a
half inch in length, as though it had
grown after having been recently
shaved. His walk was slow and stea-
dy, and, although he occasionally
threw searching glances around him,
his eyes were generally bent on the
ground.

My gaze, however, was riveted most
firmly to the little girl. She was the
very perfection of childish beauty;
and I had never seen before, nor have
I beheld since, anything so exquisite-
ly lovely. Her complexion was clear
and delicate, with that thin skin, in
which the color conies and goes at
every fleeting emotion. Her features
were of as perfect an outline as ever
poet imagined, or painter drew. There
was but little color in the cheeks, but
the lips were intensely red, ami the
lower one looked like a ripe, pulpy

•Untcre«l according to Act of Cungrcss In the Clerk's

01 New

o.n :e >.i the United States fur the Souiiiorn District
York.]

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

[Jan.,

cherry. Her form, well shown by a
closely-fitting dress, seemed to be most
symmetrical ; and the mould of her
ancles and feet would have delighted
a sculptor. But her eyes were the
most striking of all. Large, lustrous
and passionate, in color of the deep-
est hazel, with the iris floating in a sea
of liquid pearl, they beamed with a
mingled fire and softness from beneath
their long, dark lashes, in a way to
haunt the memory of the gazer for
many days afterward. She was a mere
child — a little, innocent, dreamy-look-
ing girl ; but I rose to my feet as she
came forward, and felt an emotion of
tenderness for the beautiful being,
which, had she been older, could only
have been inspired by love. As it
was I was fascinated.

The man saw me, stopped, removed
his hat, and addressed me a question
in a foreign tongue. I knew the lan-
guage to be Spanish, for I had heard
similar sounds once before ; but I could
not understand the meaning. I show-
ed, this, doubtless, by my looks, for he
replaced his hat, bowed slightly, and
moved on. It happened, however, that
the music-teacher of my adopted sis-
ter, who was a Frenchman, had given
me frequent lessons in his language,
and having labored to acquire it dur-
ing a whole year, I managed to speak
it fluently enough, though with a de-
fective accent. My admiration for the
child made me forget this, and almost
everything else ; and it was only when
the couple had turned, and the spell
of the little girl's eyes had passed,
that I recalled to mind my accomplish
ment. Thinking the man might pos-
sibly understand me, I called after him
in French, and asked how I could serve
him. He turned instantly, his coun-

tenance expressing great satisfaction,
and replied in the same tongue :

11 1 should be glad, my son, if you
could tell me the distance to the town
of Puttenham."

"Two miles from the milestone
which stands at the mouth of yonder
quarry, sir. You can see the town
from the rising ground just beyond."

As I spoke I joined them in their
walk toward the town. The man re-
sumed his questions.

" How far thence is the chateau of
the Lord Landeeze V'

11 Landy's Castle, I suppose you
mean. The park commences about a
mile on the other side of town, but the
castle is at least two miles farther,
and stands back nearly a half mile
from the high road. There is a near
path which cuts off much of the dis-
tance."

" Is milord at home V

" I believe so."

" He is a very tall, stately gentle-
man, is he not? He has dark grey
eyes, and brown hair, not unlike your
own, in color I mean, for yours is
straight and his is curled ?"

" No ; you describe his second-cou-
sin, the former earl, who died about
two years since, and who rarely vi-
sited the place. The present earl is
stately enough, and tall ; but he has
light grey eyes, and light, reddish,
yellow hair, such as we call sandy.'-*

The man seemed staggered at this.

11 Dead !" he exclaimed, " about two
years since !"

I nodded my head affirmatively.

We walked for a few minutes in si
lence. Then he turned suddenly and
questioned me again.

" How did he die V9

" I can only tell you what is gene-

1865."|

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

rally believed here," I replied. " He
had been absent from England for ma-
ny 3Tears, traveling restlessly all over
the world. He was last heard from
at Valparaiso, where he took passage
in a schooner bound to Mazatlan,
whence he intended to cross over-
and to Vera Cruz, and to go thence
by way of Havana to the United States.
The vessel was wrecked near her port,
and all on board perished, except his
lordship's valet. He returned about a
year and a half since, and brought the
news of his master's death."

He muttered something in Spanish,
and then resumed his questions.

" And the second-cousin succeeded.
Ah, yes ! I know your English law —
the nearest heir-male."

" Not exactly," I replied. " His se-
cond-cousin did succeed him, undoubt-
edly ; but as the nearest heir, and not
as the nearest heir-male."

"I do not understand the distinc-
tion. 4< What is it ?"

" Because," I said, " the earldom of
Landys' is unlike many, and for all I
know, unlike any other title in the
peerage. It is or a very old creation,
and the title and estates are entailed
on the senior heir, without regard to
sex. If a female, and she marries,
the husband becomes earl through his
wife's right, to the exclusion of the
next of kin. The grandfather of the late
earl was a commoner, but on his mar-
riage with the young Countess of Lan-
dys, entered on the wife's title and es-
taie. The late earl was childless, hav-
ing never married, and so the next
heir, the son of his father's cousin,
riucceeded."

The Spaniard seemed to be revolv-
ing something in his mind, and walked
along for awhile in silence. I pleased

myself during the interval by watch-
ing the movements of the child, who
tripped along, walking naturally and
gracefully, as most girls of her age
do. At length the man raised his head
and inquired :

" The present earl — is he married ?"

" He is," I replied, " and has a child
about four years old, a son."

The eyes of the stranger flashed an-
grily, but the gleam of passion pass-
ed, and was followed by an expression
half smile and halt sneer.

" What kind of man is the earl,"
he asked, " I mean as to mind and
manners ?"

" That," I answered, " would be
hard for me to tell. I have no oppor-
tunities of judging of either."

" I should have supposed," said the
stranger, " from your familiarity with
the family history, that you were a
connexion or friend."

I laughed at this, and said :

" You will not be in Puttenham long
before you learn that the townsfolk
are naturally interested in the Landys'
family, since the earl owns about one-
half the town — the rest belonging to
old Sharp, the miser. My position de-
bars me from any special intimacy
with a peer."

Your position ; may 1 ask, without
offending you, what that is V9

" Certainly. I am a printer's ap_
prentice at your service — apprentice
and adopted son of John Guttenberg,
printer and stationer."

" You 1 a printer V

II Nothing more sure."

"Do printer's apprentices in this
part of the world usually learn
French?"

II I believe not ; but I have a taste
for languages."

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

pan.,

We bad now reached the edge of the
town, and my companion having* ask-
ed whore he could obtain lodging, I
directed him to the Crown and Angel,
a respectable, middle-class inn, situ-
ated on the main street. He bowed
formally, gve me a profusion of thanks
for my courtesy, and so we parted. I
stood and gazed after him and the lit-
tle girl as she walked by his side, her
body gently swaying, and her glossy
hair, which hung in unrestrained
waves down her back, glistening in
the sunshine. A turn of the street
hid them from my sight : and then I
walked to the lodgings of a friend with
whom I purposed to spend the remain,
der of the day.

This friend was a young London art-
ist, lastly rising into note in his pro-
fession, who came annually to Putten-
ham, and spent a couple of months*
time there and thereabouts, partly to
sketch, for there was some beautiful
scenery around the place, and partly
to fish, for t\iere was an excellent trout
stream in the neighborhood. His
name was Paul Bagby. We had met
while I was spending a Saturday af-
ternoon— a half holiday always allow-
ed me — fishing on the banks of the
Willowfringe ; and, from the admira-
tion I expressed at a huge trout he
dexterously captured, we became ac-
quaintances. He had his sketch-book
with him, and I begged a sight at the
drawings, which he was good enough
to let me have. Finding that I ad-
mired art and artists, he invited me to
call at his lodgings, and I was glad
to accept the invitation. Being John
Guttenberg's adopted son, I had re-
ceived a fair English education, and
was not, in either manner or language,
what the world expected to find in an

ordinary apprentice-boy. Paul was
struck by some boyish remark I made
when looking at his sketches— its od-
dity tickled his fancy — perhaps my
unfeigned admiration for his produc-
tions tickled his vanity too — and we
became friends. He gave me lessons
in drawing, and during his stay would
frequently come to the shop and beg a
holiday for me that I might accom-
pany him in his sketching rambles.
My master never refused this, for Mr.
Bagby was becoming distinguished'
and was patronized by the Landys fa"
mily, the last fact, of course, a high
recommendation to the favor of the
townsfolk. Beside this he was a very
good customer to our circulating li-
brary, taking out a fresh book nearly
every day, merely to dawdle over a
few passages, and then throw it aside.
He was lively, made many queer
remarks, and used to drop in at the
shop along with the officers and others,
and to tell all kinds of funny stories
to Mrs. Guttenberg and Mary, who
had charge of that part of the busi-
ness. He was a great favorite with
the family, as he appeared to be with
every one else.

But Bagby was not at home, having
left in the morning on a sketching
tour, and I turned to go elsewhere.
Longing to have another look at the
little girl whose childish beauty had
so impressed me, I made my way to
the inn, knowing that by taking a
street which ran diagonally, I would
reach there before the Spaniard and
his daughter, who had taken the long-
er and usual way.

The Crown and Angel was in Char-
ter street, which was the principal
avenue of the town, and the house
stood at the corner of the market

1865.]

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

square. By going through Billet lane
I arrived at the inn first. On enter-
ing' the public room I called for a mug
of ale, not that I wanted a drink, but
because 1 desired a pretext for re-
maining. The waiter sat it before me,
and it was still untasted when I heard
an uproar without, and ran to the
door with the rest, to learn the cause.

Two runaway horses attached to an
empty phaston were galloping furious-
ly down the street, everybody getting
out of the way, and no one attempt-
ing to stop the infuriated animals. As
they came near the inn, the Spaniard
and little girl emerged from the cross
street, and walked toward the Crown
and Angel. A dozen voices called to
them to go back ; but the man, not
understanding English, did not think
the words to be addressed to him, or
was probably so lost in thought as
not to hear the noise. He still ad-
vanced, the little girl accompanying
him. 1 called to him in French to take
care, and springing forward, dragged
the child out of the horses' path. The
man saw his danger, and leaped des-
perately forward, but the hub of one
of the wheels struck him on the hip,
and threw him forward violently on
his face. The horses, as though star-
tled by the occurrence, stopped sud-
denly, and were at once secured by
the bystanders.

The stranger was picked up insen-
sible, carried into the inn, and a sur-
geon sent for. The little girl was al-
most frantic at first, but soon calmed
when she recognized me as one whom
she had met before?, though only for a
few minutes ; and though she under-
stood none of my words, I was ena-
bled by soothing looks and gestures
to reassure her. In a few minutes her

father recovered his senses, but was
evidently seriously injured, as the
blood on his face denoted — even more
seriously hurt than at first appeared,
for when the surgeon came he pro-
nounced the hip to be dislocated. The
patmnt was at once removed to a
chamber, and the dislocation with
great difficulty reduced. The opera-
tion was doubtless very painful ; but
the Spaniard, during its continuance,
merely set his teeth firmly together,
and did not even groan. So soon as
the head of the bone resumed its pro-
per position, he fainted, but quickly
recovered, and in a short while, al-
though the parts around the joints
were much swollen, enjoyed compara-
tive ease.

The child would not be separated
from her father, but obeyed every or-
der given by signs to remain quiet — ■
keeping her large eyes fixed on the
sufferer during the operation, and
wiping the large drops of perspira-
tion from his forehead.

As I was the only person present
who could act as interpreter, I was
forced to remain nearly an hour. Dur-
ing that time the Spaniard, who gave
his name as Jose Espinel, requested
me to tell the landlord that he prefer-
red to remain there rather than to go
to the public hospiti.1, and that he had
sufficient means to pay for the required
accommodation. This I did, and at
his further request made the landlord
send by the carrier to the next town,
Puddleford, for his own portmanteau,
and his daughter's trunk, both of which
had been left there. lie explained to
me that he could not obtain a convey-
ance that morning, and, being anxious
to get to Puttenham, had walked over,
getting a lift for himself and lite child

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

[Jan*

part of the way in a farmer's cart. He
requested me to visit him often while
he lay there, which I promised to do
if permitted. I pressed his hand, pat-
ted the child on the shoulder, and left
the two together.

When I got home I found that the
news of the accident had preceded me
— indeed by that time had been spread
throughout the town. Captain Berke-
ley, of the stationed regiment, was
commenting on the matter as I enter-
ed the shop, and complimented me as
a " doocid plucky little fellah." Mrs.
Guttenburg, who looked upon me as a
kind of hero for having pulled the
child out of the way of the horses,
made a great many inquiries about
the couple, and seemed very proud of
the compliment paid me by the cap-
tain. Mary asked if the little girl
were pretty, and on my answering in
the affirmative, said that when we
grew up we would be married — as
that was the way in all the novels and
plays. As for John Guttenberg, he
merely said that I had acted properly
enough ; and when I told him of the
Spaniard's request, added that I might
spend two hours with him during the
day, and the entire evenings, if he de-
sired it — a permission I was not slow
to accept.

CHAPTER II.,

Which is princijjctlty about a Baoy, a Mysle
rious Personage in Black, and the Church'
Clock.

Thus far my story is plain enough ;
but the reader may possibly desire to
know who I am, who John Gutten-
berg was, and other matters. It is a
proper curiosity, and shall be gratified.
Who I am will be told in due time —
what I was, and how I came to be, up

to the commencement of the story, he
shall hear at once.

Mr. John Guttenberg, although born
in England, was the grandson of a
German printer, and was himself a
master of the printer's art and mys-
tery. He came of a race of printers,
and boasted that from the time of his
great ancestor, who had divided with
Fust and SchosfTer the honor of intro-
ducing moveable types, the eldest-born
of the family had always been a type-
setter. Mr. John Guttenberg was a
staid, sober and respectable trades-
man, the master of a well-conducted
printing-office, and the publisher of a
country newspaper at the town of Put-
tenham, in the Southwestern part of
England. He was also a book-seller,
and kept a circulating library, whereof
the officers of a marching regiment,
quartered in the neighborhood, and all
the people of consequence there, as
well as many who were of no conse-
quence at all, were patrons.

Puttenham was a place having pre-
tensions to size and respectability. It
boasted of several public buildings,
including a Retreat for Decayed Mal-
sters, founded by the will of Gervase
Thompson, a retired brewer; the Coun-
ty Jail and Court-house, for Putten-
ham was the shire town ; the stocks
and public pound ; a fine old church,
planned by Sir Christopher Wren, and
erected in 1701 ; three Dissenters'
Meeting-Houses, each rectangular and
many-windowed ; and a public square,
highly-ornamented by the stocks, a
pump and two long horse-troughs.
The church had a most excellent clock,
made by a famous clock-maker in Lon-
don, and had four dials, placed to
face the four points of the compass.

Of all these things, I insist more

1865.]

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER,

particularly on John Guttenburg and
the town clock, since both have a deal
to do with the early part of my life.
To the one I am indebted for my rear-
ing, and to the other for my name ;
and I hold both my benefactors in
grateful remembrance.

Mr. John Guttenbcrg, I repeat, was
a staid, sober, and respectable trades-
man Physically, nature had not been
lavish of her choicest gifts upon his
person, since he was but five feet five
inches in height, but as he was nearly
as rotund as one of his own ink-balls,
the deficiency of length was compen-
sated for by the extent of breadth ;
and in like manner, a brevity of nose
was balanced by an extreme length of
chin ; and a mouth in shape and size
like the button-hole of a great coat,
atoned for by a pair of ears whose
length caused them to invade the do-
main of the hat above, and encroach
on that of the shirt-collar below. Men-
tally, he was rather above the greater
part of his neighbors, having energy,
quick-sightedness in business affairs,
and some concentration of purpose.
Morally, he was well endowed, and in
addition to a warm heart, possessed a
fair share of honor, as he understood
the sentiment, and an abhorrence of
what he deemed a mean action. The
robbers of old, those fellows who went
robbing and ruffianizing over the
country in sheet-iron coats and trou-
sers, would not have recognized him
as a chivalrous gentleman. Yet, I as-
sert that John Guttenberg, tradesman
as he was, and therefore by occupa-
tion supposed to be devoid of such
feeling, had as much of such chivalric
impulse in his nature as ever shed its
lustre upon tlic Knights of the Round
Table or the Peers of Charlemagne.

It is true that he had some prejudices,
and he evinced a slavish deference to
those above him in social position ;
but these were common to the trades-
man of that time and place, and, judg-
ing from history, not incompatible
with knightly acts. And if he were
occasionally betrayed into a slight ex-
cess, it was only at rare intervals, and
upon great occasions.

Two and thirty years ago to a day —
I am writing this upon the third day
of December, in the year of grace one
thousand eight hundred and fifty-nine
— the publisher of the Tottenham
Chronicle, being a Councilman, attend-
ed a meeting of the Corporation. Af-
ter the council had closed its session,
he accepted an invitation to dine with
the Mayor, a wealthy soap-boiler of
the town, and sat late with his wor-
shipful host and friends over the wine
and walnuts. Although, as he after-
wards explained to Mrs. Gutlenbcrg,
he was exceedingly sober when he
left the Mayor's house, yet the sudden
emergence from a warm to a cold at-
mosphere, and the change from the
bright, cheerful fire within, the more
cheerful company, and the stiil more
cheerful wine, to the coldness and quiet
without, had a bewildering effect upon
him. Instead of turning to the right,
he turned to the left, and pursued his
way for some distance before he dis-
covered his error.

He stopped and looked around him.
It was diilicult at first to find to what
quarter of the town he had strayed.
At length lie recognized a barber's
pole, which stood before a low house
at the street-corner, and thus knew
that his nearest road homeward
would be obtained by retracing his
steps. Before he could turn he felt a

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

[Jan.,

hand upon his elbow. He looked
around and saw a tall, dark figure,
with a coat closely buttoned up, and a
heavy fur collar over its shoulders.
All that he could discover about the
face was a pair of flashing eyes that
were fixed steadily on his own.

" Well V* said the printer, enquir-
ingly, and not without some appre-
hension, lest his new companion might
be a foot-pad.

" Mr. John Guttenberg, I believe/'
said the other, in good enough Eng-
lish, but with an accent that sounded
foreign.

" That is my name," was the reply.

" You can do me an essential ser-
vice."

" I should be glad enough to do it,"
said the startled tradesman ; " but it
is rather late, and Mrs. Guttenberg
will wonder what detains me so long
beyond my accustomed hour. If you
will call at my shop to-morrow, or ra-
ther to-day, for it is now long past
midnight, I shall be happy to hear what
you may have to propose."

The church clock struck two.

" At this moment, or never," said
the unknown. " When the day dawns
it may be too late."

John Guttenberg was about to re-
ply, when the other seized his arm
with a firm grasp, and urged his steps
onwards in a direction opposite to his
own house. Resistance was useless,
and although the printer was rather
startled, he saw no one to afford help,
and s<> gave in to the will of his cap-
tor. .Fifteen minutes sharp walking,
but through what streets he could not
tell, sufficed to bring the couple to the
outside of. a dilapidated building in an
'Unfamiliar place. Into its narrow and
tmlighted hall, .and up its creaking

stairs, the unknown led the trades-
man. Before the back-room in the
third story, the stranger stopped, and
without announcing his approach, en-
tered, dragging his companion after
him, and then closing the door.

John Guttenberg, though greatly
astounded at the whole matter, when
he saw no personal harm was intend-
ed to him, took a good look at the
apartment into which lie had been so
unceremoniously thrust.

The room was devoid of comforta-
ble furniture. There was an old and
creaking deal table, and a three-leg-
ged, oaken stool. On the former war,
a farthing candle, inserted in an ordi-
nary iron candle-stick. A scanty sea-
coal fire glimmered at the bottom of
the grate. In the corner something
lay wrapprd up in a pile of ragged
clothes, over which a cloak was partly
drawn. Near there, on the three-leg-
ged stool, sat a woman, meanly clad,
and, for the weather, insufficiently.
She was handsome, though her skin
was dark, almost tawny — her hair
especially being of an unwonted black-
ness and glossiness, and, from the mass
gathered at the back of the head, ex-
ceedingly luxuriant in growth. She
turned her eyes on the new-comer,
and seemed about to rise. The un-
known raised his finger with a menac-
ing motion, when she sank back in
her seat, and covered her face with
her hands.

" You have the reputation of being
an honest and humane man," said the
stranger.

" I hope so," said the printer.

" You. have, and I dare say it is de-
served." ■•

The stranger paused a moment, and
the woman sighed. John Guttenbeig

1865.]

THE PEER AND THE PK1NTEIU

took a good look at both. The wo-
man, though dressed so commonly,
had a well proportioned hand and
wrist, and a portion of her undercloth-
ing, which protruded from the bosom
of her dress, was edged with what ap-
peared to be costly lace. As for the
otranger, he was tall, handsomely
dressed, though without cloak or sur-
tout, and wore around his neck a heavy
collar, or rather a half cape of fur.
His eyes were dark, but whether grey,
black, or hazel, could not well be seen,
for his hat was so slouched over his
face as to throw them in shadow. He
also wore a heavy beard and whis-
kers.

" Take this child," he said ; and as
he spoke he lifted a young babe from
the pile of clothes in which it had
been snugly stowed. The woman
made a motion as though to resist it ;
but the stranger said something in a
foreign tongue, when she shrank back.
" Take it home with you," he conti-
nued. " llere — this collar of fur will
protect it still further from the cold.
Here are fifty pounds. Do with the
brat as you like. Make a printer of
him — bring him up as you think
fit — give him what name you choose.
You shall hear from me again. Come,
it is time for you to go home."

14 But," remonstrated the printer,
holding the babe at arm's length, "I
don't choose to."

"Ah I" said the woman, rising, and
commencing to speak.

"Diyum 1" cried theunkown, angri-

iy.

The woman was cowed, either by
the strange word, which she appa-
rently understood, or by his manner,
for she resumed her seat, wringing
her hands, piteously.

The babe looked up in the printer's
face, and smiled — at least, that contor-
tion of the lips which passes for a
smile in new-born babes made its ap-
pearance. John Guttenberg, whose
married life was childless, found him-
self involuntarily pressing the little
innocent to his bosom.

" Come," said the stranger, " it is
time to go."

The woman darted forward, snatch-
ed the child, and gave it a kiss — then
returned it with a sigh. As she did
so, she slipped into John Guttenberg's
hand a small paper packet.

" Come 1" said the stranger again,
and he led the bewildered printer, who
seemed to have lost all power of re-
sistance, out of the room, down stairs
and along the streets — by what route
it seemed impossible to say — to the
door of the latter's house. There the
bearer of the child plucked up cour-
age, and was about to return the
charge thus thrust upon him, when he
discovered that the other had turned
the nearest corner and disappeared.

" Oh, well 1 never mind 1" said the
printer to himself, as he opened the
door with his latch-key, " I'll send the
little fellow to the poor-house in the
morning."

Mrs. Guttenberg had not retired to
rest. She knew that her husband had
dined with the Mayor, and expecting
him to return a little flushed with
wine, had prepared a scries of
moral observations, specially adapted
to his case. To her great surprise his
face had a look far more sober and me-
lancholy than usual, and to her great
surprise she saw him unroll from a
bundl* of furs and clothing, a very
little child. The babe, which by this
time had grown hungry, began to wuil

*HE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

[Jan.,

" Bles& me !" said the wife, " if the
man hasn't a baby I Who's is it?"

" That's precisely what I'd like to
know," replied the husband.

" But how did you come by it ?"

11 That's precisely what I mean to
tell you, if it will only stop its whin-
ing."

Mrs. Guttenberg took the babe in
her arms. It was dressed in a long
frock of cross-barred muslin; but
around one arm was a strip of yellow
lace, of an exceedingly rare and cost-
ly kind ; and the short sleeves of the
dress, with those of the silk and flan-
nel underclothes, were looped up and
joined together by two bracelets of
turquoises, chained with gold after a
quaint and peculiar fashion. Around
the babe's neck was suspended by a
coarse flaxen thread, a plain gold ring.
Inside of this were some peculiar cha-
racters. The letters M and T were to
be made out distinctly ; but the others
seemed to be mere hieroglyphics. The
inscription, which was deeply engra-
ven, was as follows :

The fur in which the child was
wrapped was of the richest Eussian
sable, and underneath it was a shawl
whose material was afterwards ascer-
tained to be true cashmere. The babe
raised its large grey eyes to the face
of the good woman, and, curling its
little lip, renewed its piteous wailing.

" I'm sure I don't know what to do
with it," said the printer's wife. " It
wants feeding, poor thing, and I don't
believe there's a drop of milk in the
house. Jane gave the last to the cat
before she went to bed."

" Well, my dear, Jane has a baby
herself, and — *

"Dear me! so she has. I never
thought of that. I'll wake her."

And she did. Jane came. As she
was about to take the child, it again
indulged in that facial contortion which
young mothers call a smile.

" Why," exclaimed Mrs. Gutten-
berg, " it is the sweetest babe. There,
Jane, take care of him until morning.
He seems to be very hungry."

Jane experimented before reporting.
" It feeds uncommon strong, mum,"
she said. " It's a rare, hearty babe,
mum."

And presently off went Jane, with
the new comer in charge.

John Guttenberg told his wife all
that had occurred to him, including
the fact that the apparent mother had
slipped a packet in his hand ; but when
he came to that part of the story, for
the first time he missed the paper. It
was neither in his hand nor on his per-
son, and, after an unavailing search,
he came to the conclusion that he had
dropped it on the way home.

"What will you do with it?" inquir-
ed the wife.

11 Do with it ! Give it up to the pa-
rochial authorities along with the mo-
ney. I think that is the proper
course."

11 Is it like the man ?"

" I am not sure whether it is or not,
He hid his face so that I cannot say.
It's not like the mother, I'm sure. Its
eyes are grey, and hers are the black-
est I ever saw."

"It's a pretty baby, John ; a very
pretty baby."

" That's what you women say about
all babies. It looks to me to have
about as much expression as a sheet
of brown paper. However, its good
or bad looks don't concern us. The

18G5.]

THE PEER AND THE FKINi'EB.

parish will have to take care of it."

" John, we've been married four
years come next May-day, and we have
no children."

" Well P

" It's a boy, John "

" Is it ? What then ?»

" Suppose we keep him."

"No, indeed ! I have no idea of
supporting oilier peoples' babies — at
least not to bring them up at my ex-
pense."

"But it seems like the gift of Pro-
vidence ; and then the fifty pound, and
the lace, and the jewels, and the fur,
and that beautiful soft shawl ! It is
not a poor man's child, you may de-
pend on that, and I think it will bring
good luck."

"Do you really want to keep it,
Martha?"

" Indeed I do, John."

" I should be annoyed to death with
all kinds of ridiculous stories. People
would invent all kinds of strange sto-
ries, and some of them might even
fancy — "

" Well, let them fancy. 1 wouldn't
believe that, nor any one that has eyes,
for it isn't a hair like you ; thai/s easy
to be seen."

" It won't do, Martha."

" Well, just as you choose ; but it's
very hard that you won't grant a little
favor like that, when I've taken a fan-
cy to the child."

11 Little favor 1 very little to be
sure — to be kept awake all night by
some other man's crying brat."

" Do you hear it cry now (n

"No, but—"

"John, dear I"

u Oil, well I" exclaimed the printer,
inwardly delighted at his wile's perse-
veiauce ill a winui wincii acceded

with his own wish, "you can keep it,
if you will. But what will you name
the young fellow?"

" Oh, I'll find a name, never fear."

The church clock struck three.

" There !" she exclaimed, " there is
a name now, and a very pretty one.
You can see it any day on the north
dial of the clock. We'll call him Am-
brose Fecit."

" Ambrose fecit ! Why, my dear,
do you know what that means ?"

" Of course, I do. It means that
Mr. Fecit made that clock. Auda very
good clock it is, and a very pretty
name too, and not very common either;
for I never met any of the Fecits in
the course of my life."

" I dare sa}^ not," replied the hus-
band : and he leaned against the bed-
post— the latter part of the conversa-
tion occurring as they were disrobing
for rest — and laughed immoderately.

And thus it was I had my name,
and that was why I was bred a prin-
ter.

As for the unknown couple, no in-
quiries could find them out, nor could
John Guttenberg, in his after rambles
through the town, ever recognize the
house from whence he had taken me.

The after history of my life, up to
the period when I met the Spaniard
and his daughter, would show nothing
remarkable. I was a healthy child
and went through the perils of teeth-
ing and the measles safely. John
Guttenberg and his wife fulfilled their
self-imposed task like good and con-
scientious people. I was treated aa
though I were their own c\iild, being
duly lectured and birched when 1 was
naughty, and cuddled and candied
when 1 was not. When I was about
lour years old, Mrs. GuLtenbeig pre-

THE PEEK AND THE PKltt l'Eft.

[Jan.,

sented her husband, greatly to his
gratification and her delight, with a
daughter. Everybody — for people
knew me to be a foundling, though
they did not know the circumstances
of my finding — declared that "my
nose was put out of joint," and that I
might now look out for neglect, if not
positive ill-treatment. Everybody
was mistaken. I was treated the
same as usual. As for myself, I was
too young to understand these predic-
tions, of which I knew nothing until
afterwards. But I was vastly delight-
ed with the new-comer, on whom I
used to gaze in the cradle with wiapt
admiration. It was the dawning of
an amiable weakness which followed
me through life — a love and esteem
for the opposite sex. As we grew up
together 1 loved the little Mary more
and mure. 1 brought her home all my
trophies in the shape of marbles and
peg-tops ; I expended my scanty pock-
et-money in hard-bake and barley-su-
gar for her particular benefit ; and af-
ter 1 had left school to be instructed
in the mysteries of my protector's
craft, I used to take surreptitious im-
pressions of wood-cuts in colored inks,
to ornament her play-house. 1 thought
my sister — tor such 1 believed her to
be until goud-natured strangers taught
me better- — to be the prettiest child in
the world, my idea of beautiful eyes
being those of a mottled, light hazel
hue, and my type of symmetrical noses
the pug.

During the early part of my life,
and more especially in the first year
of my apprenticeship, I thought the
Puttenham Chronicle to be the leading
newspaper of the world ; and I felt
more awful reverence for Mr. Ilincks,
the editor, than I did for the Earl of

Landys, whose estate lay within a
mile of town, or even the lady (Caro-
line Bowlington, who came in her own
coach once a year to make the Dowa-
ger Countess of Landys a visit, and
was the sole daughter of a Duke. For,
did not Mr. Ilincks handle not only
Dukes and Marquesses without gloves,
but even boldly attacked her Majesty's
ministers — they being of the oppo-
site party to ours? Did he not sneer
at the French, who, to be sure, were
not much, as they all wore wooden
shoes, and lived on frogs, and spent
the principal part of their lives in
hair-dressing, and giving clancing-les
sons to one-another — a poor, lean set
of fellows, for any ten of whom a har-
dy Briton was a match at any time?
And did he not give, at times, a good
setting-down to the Yankees, a nation
of savages who spoke a kind of wild
English, and scalped and ate their
prisoners — whose women chewed to-
bacco and spoke through their noses ;
a people who had behaved so badly
that his Majesty, George the Third,
after whipping them at Bunker Hill
and Yorkvown, and New Orleans, and
I don't know how many more places
finally cast them off, and sent them
about their own business, where they
have been miserably ever since ? Then
there was my fellow-apprentice, Tom
Brown, who set up all the leaders, and,
in the absence of his master, even
made up the form. My opinion of him
was that he had great force of charac-
ter, combined with great knowledge
of the world, and had only to say the
word, afjer he was out of his time, to
be made a prime-minister, or a mem-
ber of parliament, er a beadle, or some-
thing else equally important. And
the fishermen who came on market

1865.] THE PEER AND THE PRINTER. 23

days, with fish from the little port of band, and imprecating their tarry top-
Pliddleford, about live miles off, I re- lights, as the gallant sailor, who ap-
garded as men who went down into peared in " Black-Eyed Seyensan,"
the sea in ships, bold navigators who when the players made their annual
were ready to sail to the bottom of the visit, invariably did.
Maelstrom, if needed ; though I did Having thus introduced myself to
find fault with them for not frequently the reader, let us go back to the Spa-
hitching up their trousers by the waist- niard and the little girl.

( To be continued. )

CLOSE OF THE YEAR 1806 AND 1864.

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN.

The following lines are as applicable to the close of the year in America in 1864, as thoj
were to Europe in 1806 :

Thy kneil is rung upon thy tomb,
With awful sound man wails his doom ;

His tears thy floating ashes lave ;
No cheering hope his sorrows own,
With thee life's happiness is flown,

And sunk in darkness to the grave.
In separation s bitter hour,
O'er widowed wives thy dark clouds lower ;

The brides no more the bridegrooms prize,
And orphans, at their utmost need,
Have none to guard them, none to feed,

No fathers close their childrens' eyes.
The sickle beat into a sword,
A murderous instrument abhor* d,

Now whirls a fratricidal hand ;
And wealth and ease must quit their home,
On beggar's crutches doomed to roam,

Sad exiles in their native land.
The sun on high, with fiery glow,
Sees nought but sorrow here below,

And shines on plains still drenched with gow^
While destiny, severely just,
Makes kings and peasants bite the dust,

And desolate fair nature's store.
O, heaven! can nought thy rage alloy?
Would'st thou the human race destroy ?

Shall tyrant war know no remorse?
O, srnilo upon thy suppliants' prayer,
Let peace return — onco more declare

That right shall triumph over forca.

IK PRISON.

FJan.

IN PRISON.

* CONDEMNED XO SOLITAEY CONFINEMENT.*'

Can it be true, that I, even I,

Was ever glad and gay ?
I, who in silence and in gloom

Mast linger day by day ?

A year or two, or is it more,

Since to this living grave,
Mocking, my captors hurried me,

Nor even a reason gave ?

What is my crime ? Vainly I ask ;

The walls give back no sound,
The walls that seem each weary day

Closer to bind me round.

At first I was not quite alone,
For Hope my prison shared,

When she was here, I heeded not
How slenderly I fared.

And Memory, with magic wand,

Gave me the past again,
But Hope took Bight one stormy night,

1 look for her in vain !

So then I clung to Memory,
And prayed her stLl to stay ;

Alas ! her blessed imagery
Is fading fast away.

I think of those whose faces still
Shine out on Memory's walJ,

And wildly in my troubled dreams
On each dear name I call.

Have they forgotton that I pine

Here in this dungeon dim ?
Have they forgotten e'en to say,

" Great Father, pity him ?"

With some in sorrow I have watched,
Wept with them when they wept,

Oh, how I loved them ! —have they not
One memory of me left ?

Alas ! they cannot know

Such misery as mine ;
Life's blessings, and God's Providence

Still round their pathways shine.

I had a dream. Was it a dream ?

Here, I but wake and sleep,
And wake again —no note of time

Have I the power to keep !

Perhaps it happened long ago,

Perhaps— I cannot tell-
Sometimes my own name I forget.

The world once knew it well.

I used to talk and shout aloud,

I dare not do it now,
The sound of my own voice will bring

The cold sweat to my brow !

That dream— Oh, was it I who knelt

Low at the lady's knee ?
I knelt, but was not there alone,

Two others bowed with me.

M Say after me, my darling now—**
Like music was each tone —

"Our Father," after her, we said,
And then " Thy will be done."

Why does that picture haunt me now,
" Our Father i " Is he mine ?

" Our Father" free me from these band%
If I ineeed am thine.

Was it a step? Be still my heart ;

Throb not so wildly yet —
Will He not hear me in my woe ?

Does God Himself forget ?

They call Him just and merciful,

Surely he hears me pray—
Our Father, send Thy messenger

To free this tortured clay.

Alas! 'tis vain — forsaken here,

Still ling'ring I must he —
How long ? Reason is tottering now—

How long ere I can die?

For I shall die, without one gleam

Of Heaven's blessed light ;
Without one face to look upon,

Die in this endless night*

1865.1

THE CIVILIZATION OF THE TROPICS.

Oh, I shall be a madman soon,

I cannot bear this life ;
God pity me, since man will not,

And end this weary strife !

Hark ! was it not my mother's voice ,

Was it a vision bright ?
It seems to whisper, " Darkest hours

Are just before the light."

Father, I thank Thee ! blissful tears
My burning eyes may weep,

Now, as in happy days of old,
I'll lay me down to sleep.

And with my childhood's simple faith,

If ere on earth I wake,
My summons come, I'll pray the Lord

That He my soul will take.

Oh, ye are free, but prison homes
Darken this freedom's land ;

Reinem e e i b • the leapt ve lone
In every noasenoid uand.

-*^*~

THE CIVILIZATION OF THE TROPICS.

The Civilization of the Tropics! How
few comprehend it, or indeed under-
stand anything of the subject, save a
general notion of burning suns, wav-
ing palms, paroquets, and oranges,
though year after year we are nearing
these naturally fertile and beautiful re-
gions, and the time must come when
they will constitute the great center of
American civilization, as they are the
center of its territorial dimensions.

"Civilization" is a word or term of
widely varying significance. Some
consider it as merely contrasting with
some imaginary heathen or barbarian
condition, supposed to have once ex-
isted ; indeed it is quite a general no-
tion that our race, at some time or other,
were in some such condition as we now
find negroes in Africa, Malays in the
Pacific, &C. Others again give a more
restricted meaning to this term, and
would imply by its use the general con-
dition of our race since the advent of
Christianity, and in contrast with the
Egyptian, Greek, and Roman civiliza-
tion that preceded it. This is, perhaps,
generally considered, correct enough j

but it is too indefinite for the subject
we propose to discuss in this article,
and we will therefore give our own de-
finition of the term " civilization." A
true perception of the laws of nature, and
an intelligent adaptation of these laws to
the end or purposes of human welfare,
is our notion of civilization. A com-
munity, like an individual, may be
learned without possessing knowledge,
as it may be polished or refined with-
out true morality, and therefore that
community, nation, or people, who most
truly understand the laws of nature,
and most intelligently apply these
laws for the welt are of its people, is
the most civilized, though its power and
celebrity may be less than main7 others.
With this general notion of civilization,
we propose to show the past, present,
and (possible) future condition of the
great tropical center of our continent,
embracing, ordinarily speaking, fifty,
but in reality some seventy degrees of
latitude.

Naturalists have divided the earth
into zones or centers of existence, each
of winch has its own fauna and Jiura

THE CIVILIZATION OF THE TROPICS.

[Jan ,

and inrWd its own peculiar soils, as
well as geological features. It is also
an all-pervading law that the soils, the
vegetation, the animal existence, and
the human adaptation, are in perfect
harmony with each other, and on a true
peiceptioh of this great natural and
fundamental law and strict conformity
with its " necessities," rests the cause
of progress, and the welfare and hap-
piness of mankind. The soils, the at-
mosphere, in a word, the climate of the
temperate latitudes, not only harmon-
ize, but imperatively demand, the labor
of the white man for their cultivation,
a-nd the peculiar products of these lati-
tudes could not be grown by the lower
races. Even when directed by the high
intelligence of the Caucasian master, it
is seen that the labor of the negro is
vastly less valuable in Virginia, Mary-
land, and other border States, and, left
to his own resources, even had he the
reflective faculty sufficient to appre-
ciate the final benefit of industry, his
low grade of intellect would render him
quite unable to cultivate the temperate
latitudes. Ignorant people, ignorant
of climate and industrial adaptations,
as well as ignorant of the negro nature,
fancy that they deal a stunning blow
at what they term " slavery," when they
contrast Ohio with Kentucky, and
Pennsylvania with Virginia ; but if the
negro " freeman" were left to himself
in these latitudes, he would live as the
Indian did, or he would not live at all.
As it is, it simply shows the industrial
adaptation of the; white man, and though
the negro labor is directed by the high
intelligence of its master, it falls far
short of that of the former.

The remedy of the Abolitionists for
this " evd" is to transform the relatively
useful negro into an absolutely worth-

less negro, and in addition to tax the
white laborer for his support.

The complicated soils, the tendency
to exhaustion, and necessity of resusci-
tation, the care needed for their growth,
harvesting, &c, the danger from frosts
and vicissitudes of the atmosphere, all
combine in demanding the highest in-
telligence for the cultivation of the tem-
perate latitudes, and not only that
which is specific to the Caucasian, but
the most profound education and high-
est possible culture would be or might
be most fitly employed in this cultiva-
tion of the land. There are a few ex-
ceptions, wheat, potatoes, &c. ; as
among animals, there are the horse,
dog, &c, that have accompanied the
white man in all his migrations, but be-
yond these the law is all-pervading and
universal — the zones, the soils, the pro-
ducts, and the human or industrial
adaptations, are in perfect accord, and
this law cannot be disregarded or vio-
lated without the corresponding penal-
ty of a diseased production and abor-
tive civilization.

The tropical regions of this conti-
nent are endowed with a natural fer-
tility far surpassing the temperate lati-
tudes, though there are vast mountain
chains, especially on the main land, and
not unfrequently one sees nothing but
pedrigal, &c, for many miles. The
soils are not merely rich, they are ex-
haustless, and save the want of water
or irrigation, need no efforts for resus-
citation, and the natural fertility, the
rich, all-abounding growth of vegeta-
tion, is so wonderful, that persons liv-
ing in our more sterile northern climes
can scarcely conceive of its beautiful
and gorgeous luxuriance.

Its staple products are cotton, sugar
and coffee j but aside irom its rich and

18G5.1

THE CIVILIZATION OF THE TROPICS.

peculiar fruits, there is an almost end-
less variety of lesser products, and
aftiorig them the Cassava, or bread-
fruit, which formed the staple diet of
its original inhabitants, and indeed that
of their Spanish conquerors. The nu-
merous varieties of yams and sweet po-
tatoes furnished food for the natives,
with scarcely any more need of labor
than to "pluck and eat;" and they now
serve the wants of the idle and useless
negroes in the same way.

The table lands, however, especially
on the main land, while not indigenous,
admit of the growth and cultivation of
most of our northern products and nor-
thern fruits, the apple, pear, peach,
apricot, &c, and some of the finest
wheat fields in the world may be seen
in the valleys of Fuebla and Mexico,
within fifteen degrees of the equator.

Of course an Almighty and benefi-
cent Creator did not endow these re-
gions with their genial climate and
wonderful fertility, to remain barren
wastes and useless to the happiness of
His creatures. On the contrary, it is
obvious that these rich and profuse
sources of human enjoyment were de-
signed to be developed and made tri-
butary to human happiness. It is true
the negro might live in the tropics and
fulfil the primal law to "increase and
multiply," if isolated from civilization,
for the profuse and almost spontaneous
vegetation enables him to do so, but he
might remain here for a million of years
without any cultivation of these great
staples which so largely influence the
civilization of our times, and that so vi-
tally affect human welfare. Cotton,
sugar, and coffee 1 Suppose for a mo-
ment the world deprived of them, what
a stupendous void in human happiness!
\\ nub an impei'iect. Civilization of the

masses, bringing us back to the old
Roman days when, though the rich few
had their luxuries, the millions lived
much like the other animals that sur-
rounded them.

It is obviously certain, then, that the
great tropical centers of our conti-
nent were designed by Providence for
the cultivation of those indigenous pro-
ducts so essential to human welfare,
and without which American civiliza-
tion would be almost as imperfect as
that of mida3val times. The early Span-
ish conquerors found these beautiful and
naturally fertile regions useless wastes*
the natives growing maize in the val-
lies on the main land, and in the islands
subsisting mainly on fruits and fish.
Their numbers were small, especially
on the islands, and they seem to have
been, as indeed the native is siii!, won-
derfully docile and obedient to their
Spanish conquerors. The latter, with
the two simple but terrible passions,
love of gold and desire for proselytes,
made short work of the islanders.
Their simple habits of life, and their in-
dolence, rendered them almost worth-
ies*; as laborers in the mines, and their
stern and bigotted masters, with their
all-devouring thirst for gold, imposed
such tasks and burthens on them that
they soon succumbed, and have disap-
peared so utterly that at this time there
is not a single native left m the entire
Antilles.

Las Casas, and others of the clergy,
daily witnesses of this frightful waste
of the natives, sought by every means
in their power to mitigate the severi-
ties of their Spanish masters, but with
little effect, until at last they succeed-
ed in substituting the negro as a labor-
er. This, however, did Hot save the
native, and like our own "ovJized"

THE CIVILIZATION OF THE TROPICS.

[Jan.,

Indian of the North, he was a social
incumbrance, and unable to cope with
the white man, and no longer protected
by him, disappeared even more rapidly
than when overworked by his Spanish
master. The Moors brought many ne-
gro servants into Spain with them, and
some of them having accompanied their
Spanish masters to the new world, it
was seen that instead of sinking under
the burthens imposed on the native, or
becoming the victims of febrile diseas-
es, like the Spaniards, they became ap-
parently more vigorous and happy than
they had been in their Spanish homes.
This striking fact, probably far more
than Las Cases' benevolent desire to
relieve the overtasked natives, led to
their introduction and permanent em-
ployment as the natural industrial ele-
ment of the tropical world. An appli-
cation made to the government of Phil-
lip Second, for leave to bring from Afri-
ca a certain number of negro laborers,
after mature consideration, was finally
successful. But the utmost care and
kindness distinguished this beginning
of the so-called slave trade. Only a
certain number, composed of a certain
proportion of men, women and chil-
dren, were permitted to be brought to
the Spanish Islands. The ships bring-
ing them were carefully examined,
their comfort and health secured on the
passage, and they were always duly
baptised and taught the rudiments of
Christianity. Indeed, in view of the
mighty migrations of our own race
since that time, it may be said with
perfect truth that the original " slave
trade," or introduction of negroes into
the New World, was the most conside-
rate, careful, and humane phase of emi-
gration ever known in the history of
mankind. A few years later it fell in-

to the hands of the Dutch and English,
and then regarded as a legitimate
branch of commerce, negroes were im-
ported as mere work animals, and mar-
kets supplied without regard to sex or
age, climate or industrial adaptation ;
but even then, and down to the time
when a diseased and wicked philan-
thropy interposed and perverted it into
an inhuman programme, its mortality
only averaged eleven per cent., and the
11 trade" doubtless involved less human
misery and suffering than did the ordi-
nary emigration of the ignorant and out-
raged people of our own race in their
search for homes and happiness in the
New World.

It was many years after this, how-
ever, before the negro labor was made
available for the cultivation of those
great staples which influence so largely
the civilization of our times. But when
sugar, indigo, coffee, &c., were in such
high demand, a vast stimulus was ap-
plied to tropical productions, and the
islands, constantly supplied by fresh
laborers from Africa, were rapidly and
extensively cleared of their forests and
brought under cultivation. No sane or
thoughtful mind will question the fit-
ness, indeed duty, of thus using the la-
bor of the negro. In his native Africa
he is simply a useless heathen, not from
accident, time, chance, or anything of
that sort, but because he cannot be
anything else short of a new creation.
He is a child, or "boy" in intellect, and
physiologically as incapable of compre-
hending the value of industry, or of
providing for the future as the boy of
ten or twelve years, and therefore to
bring him within the scope of our Chris-
tian civilization, and improve his con-
dition while rendering him an impor-
tant agency in that civilization, was a

1865.]

THE CIVILIZATION OF THE TROPICS.

humane proceeding to him, and morally
right from the stand point of our own
welfare. Without his labor, all that ex-
tensive and beautiful region must re-
main a wilderness, and the comfort and
welfare of almost countless millions im-
peratively demanded that the agencies
ordained by the Creator should be used
by His creatures. It is true these were
abused, negroes were carried into nor-
thern latitudes, into New England, and
even the Canadas, to some extent ; and
still worse, males alone, to a great ex-
tent, as now in Cuba, were brought
from Africa, and thus denied the primal
right due even to animals, that of mul-
tiplying their kind. But these abuses
of the so-called slave trade had no ne-
cessary connection with the great fun-
damental necessity and right, indeed
duty of cultivating the tropics, and em-
ploying the agencies ordained by the
Creator for securing those things so es-
sential to the welfare and happiness of
mankind.

The great demand in Europe for tro-
pical products rendered the whole of
tropical America a very garden of rich
and varied cultivation, and Jamaica,
Hayti, and other islands, abundantly
supplied the European masses with
comforts denied to kings and nobles in
the time of the Romans. At this pe-
riod England had not yet acquired her
vast East India possessions, and Eu-
rope depended wholly on Jamaica and
other islands for sugar, and, to a cer-
tain extent, for other tropical products,
and it is only reasonable to say that
the sugar, coffee, indigo, fruits, &c, of
America, were more beneficial, and con-
tributed more to human happiness
than did the produce of all the gold
and silver mines of the New World.
There was, however, a serious draw-

back on this otherwise beneficent pro
duction of tropical America. The de-
mand for sugar and coffee gave a great
stimulus to the demand for negro labor,
and instead of depending on the natu-
ral increase of population, these impor-
tations became a mere matter of com-
merce, and as males paid best, few fa-
milies or children were brought over.
This was a great outrage on these poor
creatures, but it vitiated and brutalized
their masters and all who were con-
nected with it. It was not in the cru-
elty or brutality practiced on board
ships engaged in the "trade," for inter-
est, if nothing else, would prompt a care
for that which was valuable as proper-
ty, but the habit of regarding the hu-
man creature as a mere work animal,
and quite removed from human sympa-
thies, in its reaction demoralized soci-
ety, and from the " slave trader" to the
pirate there was too often but a single
step.

If, as now in the South, the planters
of the tropics had depended on the na-
tural increase of their negro popula-
tion, and thus while providing for their
material wants, had enabled them to
enjoy all those natural rights of family,
the affection of the sexes, of offspring,
&c, common to all humanity, society
in these islands would have been the
most beneficent and natural in civiliza-
tion. And even if their limited num-
bers demanded more African importa-
tion, if this had been carefully and hu-
manely provided for, as it was under
Phillip the Second, society would still
have been saved from the frightful de-
moralization that grew up under the
Dutch and English practice of import-
ing work animals to supply the de-
mands of the American labor market.
The enormous production of tropical

THE CIVILIZATION OF THE TROPICS.

Jail

America at this time may be under-
stood at a glance, when it is remem-
bered that the Island of Hayti alone,
in 1789, supplied the thirty five mil-
lions of France with sugar, and its
coffee, indigo, &c.? probably were of
equal importance. All the other
islands, and indeed the whole tropical
region, were in a similar condition of
activity, industry and prosperity, and
one hundred years ago, when the great
West was a solitude, save when dis-
turbed by the Indian war-whoop, and
Lakes Erie and Huron as unknown to
commerce aud civilization as those re-
cently discovered in Central Africa,
the Carribean Sea and Gulf of Mexico
were familiar terms with every cabin-
boy in Europe.

Both the islands and the main land,
though their natural fertility and na-
tural capabilities were only partially
developed, were the sources through
which Europe were supplied with tro-
pical productions, and these products
constituted the basis of all, or nearly
all, of the commerce of the times.
Port Royal, Port-au-Prince, Kingston,
Panama, &c, cities that now are little
more than negro kraals, were then the
seats of commerce and centres of
wealth, luxury and refinement, surpas-
sing even New York and Philadelphia,
and our own Atlantic towns, in com-
mercial enterprize. Even after Hayti
had been as utterly lout to civilization
as if submerged in the depths of the
Atlantic, in a wild attempt to " abol-
ish" the distinctions of race, the pros-
perity of the other islands was so great
that New Orleans far surpassed New
York as a center of commerce, and it
was only when Jamaica, &c., were
completely ruined by the monstrous
delusion of our times, that it began to

fall in the rear of our great Atlantic
cities. But all of this life, this indus-
try and prosperity of these fertile and
beautiful regions has disappeared, leav-
ing behind not a buried -civilization,
like that of Egypt or Ninnevah, but a
festering and degraded mass of decay-
ing humanity, which, while quite as
useless to modern civilization as the
former, has sufficient poison in it to
ruin the continent.

Almost simultaneous with the Ame-
rican Revolution of 1776, a counter re-
volution began to neutralize, and pos-
sibly to overthrow, the former. Wash-
ington, Jefferson, and their compatriots,
declared all (white) men created equal,
and founded a system on this great na-
tural and fundamental truth ; and when
the English aristocracy failed to beat
it down in the field, they sought to de-
bauch, undermine and destroy it by
forcing us, or inducing us, to include
the negro in the system.

One hundred years ago there was
not a "free" negro in America, and if
there had been no American Revolu-
tion, there would have been no "anti-
slavery cause," and at this moment no
such social monstrosity as a "free" ne-
gro in the New World. Mr. Calhoun
was wont to charge the " British an-
ti-slavery" policy to commercial rivalry
and that having acquired their East
Indian possessions, they Could afford
to ruin their West India interests to
induce us to " abolish slavery," and
then they would monopolize the tropi-
cal production of the world. But this
was too low an estimate of " British
philanthropy." It was the creation not
of time or forethought, but of necessi-
ty, and sprung spontaneously from
that instinct of antagonism always in-
herent in hostile systems. There are

1865.]

THE CIVILIZATION OF THE TROPICS.

thirty millions of white people, twelve
millions of negroes, and ten millions of
aborigcnes in America, and these am-
algamated in the same system, Demo-
cratic institutions would be rendered
impracticable, as we already witness
in Mexico, Central America, &c, and
the work of Washington and Jefferson
the most stupendous and disastrous
failure ever witnessed in the annals of
mankind.

The great body of the European peo-
ple, ignorant of the negro, and deem-
ing him like themselves, save in color,
of course supported their governments
in their warfare on American institu-
tions, without dreaming of the wrong
done the negro, or the still greater
wrong to the white people of those
islands.

The French Government decreed
that the mnlattoes of Ilayti should
have "equal rights" with the whites,
and finally that all whites, mongrels
and negroes, should be degraded into
" impartial freedom," and as the white
people preferred extermination at once
to a gradual rotting out of their
blood through mongrelism, not one
white man, woman or child was left
in the French part of the island. The
mongrels of the coast still retain

French traditions, language, and a
bastard Christianity, but the negroes
of the interior are rapidly recovering
their African dialects, snake worship,
and other fetches, and a lew years
hence, when the mongrel blood shall
have died out, they will be as abso-
lutely African as if in the center of that
continent, and as if there had not been
a white man in their midst for a thou-
sand years.

Meanwhile, and indeed even* since
*he so-called "abolition of slavery,"

that beautiful island, with its genial
climate, and its wonderful capabilities
for human existence and happiness, is
as absolutely lost to the civilization of
our times as if it were sunk into the
Atlantic ocean. A similar crime was
committed on the helpless people of
Jamaica. The British parliament de-
creed that whites and negroes should
be forced to a common condition, but
as the white people had not the cou-
rage and high sense of manhood dis-
played by the French in Ilayti, and
preferred to perish of rottenness,
through mongrelism, they are now ra-
pidly undergoing that hideous process,
and a few years hence, as in Ilayti,
there will not be a white man left on
the island. All the other portions of
the great tropical center of the conti-
nent are going through the same hi-
deous and disgusting process, and
marching to the same ultimate end —
first " impartial freedom," then amal-
gamation, mongrelism, sterility, and
final extinction of the white blood, and
of course ultimate collapse, or rather
restoration of original Africanism, for
unadulterated Africanism is natural,
and therefore vastly preferable to
mongrelism.

There are two obstacles, however,
in the way of this returning African,
ism — the presence of European gov-
ernments in each of the islands, and
the importation of Chinese Mongols —
the first holding the negro instinct in
check, and preserving the outward form
of social order, and the latter as an in-
dustrial force, creating a limited pro-
duction, and thus deceiving the world
in regard to the real condition. Bat
both of them are fictitious and tempo-
rary, and must ere long give way to
the natural order, to either the rostora-

THE CIVILIZATION OP THE TROPICS.

[Jan,

tion of the true elements of tropical
civilization, or complete Africanism,
that is, to the industrial adaptation of
the negro, under the care and guidance
of the Caucasian, as in the South, or
to African dialects and snake worship,
with its occasional spice of cannibal-
ism. The negro, isolated, is a useless,
non-producing heathen, and can be
nothing else short of a new brain and
a new body ; and if modern •• philan-
thropy" could push aside the Creator
of the negro, and change them into
those of the white man, why they could
make him a " freeman," of course, but
as the " color" is a lesser consideration,
they should begin their recreative pro-
cess with that, in justice to the negro.
As it is, they destroy the white people
of the tropics, and, to a certain extent,
the negro, for their numbers constantly
diminish on the coast regions. But it
being the natural center of negro ex-
istence, he will outlive the malignant
and deadly " philanthropy" of our times,
and returning to his native Africanism,
the great tropical center of our conti-
nent must become the seat of a huge
African heathenism, and some sixty de-
grees the most genial and fertile por-

tion of the New World as utterly lost
to American civilization as if swallow-
ed up by the Pacific and Atlantic seas.
Can commerce, can the toiling millions
of the Mississippi Valley, and the great
northern cities, consent to be depend-
ent on England and the East Indies for
sugar, coffee, cotton, and other tropical
products, at enormous prices, so that a
huge African heathenism shall be pro-
jected into the heart of the continent,
and stay the march of American Dem-
ocracy? And worse still, shall this
huge Africanism, protected by the mo-
narchies of the Old World, pen up our
own negroes within existing limits,
and 'some day force the whites to
slaughter them, amalgamate with them,
or abandon the whole gulf region, as
well as the tropics, to African savage-
ry ? These are problems of the future,
the most tremendous problems that ci-
vilization has ever yet solved. In the
meantime we are in the hands of the
dupes and tools of Europe, and striving
with all our might not to restore civi-
lization to the tropics, but to commit
social suicide by bringing the blight
and ruin of the tropics to the line of
the Potomac.

-+&»~

VOICES THAT ARE GONE.

I'm thinking often of the time,
When "Ben" and I, at vesper chime,
Went out to take a boyish run,
Where many a childish tale was spun,
Down by the orchard, under trees
Where we had listened in the breeze,
To voices that are gone.

We talked of flowers and story books,
And, listening to the running brooks,
We thought they played again the tunes
We boys" had sung in other Junes,
When life was very young — and we
At night were always blest to be
W.th voices that are gone.

The flight of many winters now,
Has left its traces on my brow ;
But still my heart doth often glide
Back through the shadows, to the side
Of some old tree or woodland spot,
That stood beside my childhood's cot—
Whose voices now are gone.

And all are gone — and I alone,
Like a lone pilgrim on a stone,
Sit by the dusty way of life,
Aweary of its selfish strife,
And from the years call up in vain,
What I shall never hear again —
The voices that are gone.

C CUAUNCEY BURB.

1865.]

THE FEMALE PARLIAMENT

THE FEMALE PARLIAMENT OF ARISTOPHANES.

A remarkable comedy of the Greek
satirist, entitled " The Fclesiazusce" or
The Female Parliament, is proof that
the movements of strong-minded wo-
men are not the inventions of modern
times. The awful lampoon of Aristo-
phanes proves that such things were
going on, at least in Greece, as early
as anno mundi 3528, or 420 years be-
fore the Christian era. The late Con-
vention of the strong-minded women of
America, revived in our memory the
comedy of Aristophanes, which we had
not read since or school-boy days 5 bu t
the remarkable coincidence, in spirit
and social philosophy, between our fe-
male conventionists and the parliament
of women of the Greek author, induced
us to retouch our acquaintance with
that celebrated performance.

There is no better way to get an in-
side view of the follies and vices of an
age than to study the works of its great
comic writers and satirists. While it
is true that their business is to hunt up
the ridiculous, and to drag follies forth
from their hiding places, the success of
their writings must always depend up-
on the truth of their delineations. This
is the office of comedy, to take off the
mask, and hold the mirror directly to
our face, in order that we may be
ashamed of our follies, and be induced
to correct our habits. If we would
learn the manners of a people, we must
study, not the sermons of their great
preachers, but the writings of their
great satirists. If we desire an ac-
quaintance with the social life and
manners of the Romans, we should seek

it in the writings of Plautus, Horace,
Juvenal and Persius, even more than
in the works of their greater orators
and moralists, as Cicero, Cato, Quinti-
lian and Seneca. If we would get be-
hind the scenes in the social character
of the Greeks, we must resort not to
the epics of Hesiod and Rhodius, nor
to the orations of Isocrates and Peri-
cles, but to the satires of Lucian and
the comedies of Aristophanes. The
latter author, especially, has left us
pictures of the life and manners of his
time, which hang like faithful old por-
traits on the walls of the past. Many
of these pictures, in coming down to a
new world, are not recognized by us as
bearing any resemblance to the living.
But this one, of the strong-minded wo-
men, we do recognize at once, as bear-
ing the strongest likeness to what we
see passing again in our day.

The scene of the comedy of " The Fe-
male Parliament is laid in Athens. The
plot is simple. The women steal the
clothes of their husbands, and resort to
the assembly of the people, in which
every citizen of Athens had an equal
voice ; and obtaining a majority in this
clandestine manner, they decree a new
constitution, in which there is to be a
community of goods and women. This
was easily done. The government was
a pure democracy, in which every citi-
zen was his own representative, and
voted directly on all questions of State.
As the assembly met at the hour of
dawn, and as the men were delayed at
home hunting for the clothes which
their wives had put on and worn oil",

OF ARISTOPHANES.

[Jan.,

the legal assembly was entirely in their
own hands. The action of the comedy
begins with the second scene, in which
the women relate to the lady president,
Praxagora, their various adventures in
netting off with their husbands' cloth-
ing. Then the presidentess examines
aer pupils, to see if they are all up in
the part they are to play in the grand
assembly :

Peaxagoea — Ladies, since those convened are
duly met,

I Pr:!y ve a^' he seated. Say, has each

Done what was at Minerva's least command-
ed ?

First Woman (raising her arm)— That sooth
have I ; look at my arms, no lack

Of hair you see ; moreover, when my hus-
band

To market hied him, then rubbed with oil,

From head to foot, I sunned me through the
day.*

Fifth Woman — So too have I ; no more the
razor's edge

My skin shall touch ; I've thrown it out of
window,

And soon shall rival e'en the men in rough-
ness.

Peaxagoea — Your heards too, have ye them,
as was commanded ?

Foueth Woman (holding one up) — Lo mine !
by Hecate, 'tis a bushy one.

Sixth Woman — Lo ! here's a club ; I stole it
as he slept,

From Lamis.

Peaxagoea — A good'y club, by Hecate !

To wield it long would make one puff again.

Sixth Woman — And largo enough, by Jove,
to have a code

Of laws engraved upon its ample sides.

Peaxagoea — A truce of jests ; decide we, ere
the stars

Fade into morning, what more's to be done,

Since earliest dawn will see the assembly
meet.

Fiest Woman — Behoves us make good speed
then, and secure

Our seats, over against the stone tribunal, f

Seventh Woman— See ! like a thrifty wife,
I've brought my wool,

And while the people gather, will ply my
task.

* It was the custom of the men to anoint
'.the whole body with oil, and dry it in the
sun ; and of the women to shave themselves
All over.

f The place where the orators addressed
ihe,people.

Peaxagoea— Art mad? What! in the Assem-
bly?
Seventh Woman — Ay ; dost think
I cannot work and listen too ? How else,
By Dian, are my children to get clothing?

Peaxagoea — Now hear her, how she talks of

picking woo),
She whom befits to hide her form and sex !
A line exposure would it be for us,
If you should come into the fall assembly,
And striding o'er the seats, should make a

trip,
The falling headlong show you are a wnmnn I
For fear of such a mishap we'll sit in front,
There, muffled up, we may defy detection ;
For seated thus, with beard on chin, who'll

dare
Doubt each of us is every inch a man ?

The scene closes with the practice oi
each of the women in the part she is to
take in the great assembly. Praxago-
ra drills and scolds them by turn, for
they make all manner of blunders and
queer mistakes, which would not quite
bear repeating on the modern stage.
They imitate the coarse manners and
rude talk of the men, in order to lit
themselves for the labors they are aboul
to assume in guiding the affairs oi
State.

The second act of the comedy opena
with a view of the men dressed in their
wives' apparel. One, Bellphyrus, cornea
forth clad in his wife's petticoat, of saf-
fron die, with her Persian slippers on
his feet. Each narrates his astonish-
ment at the absence of his wife, and
each tries to console his neighbor with
the reflection that things may not be
so bad with the women as appearances
would indicate. In the midst of this
scene of domestic query and misery,
Cherves comes from the assembly, and
narrates all that had passed there. A
crowd of citizens had declared that the
only safety was for the women to take
the reins of State. The sturdy burghers
shouted aloud their disapprobation, but
the new crowd of citizens shouted loud-
er for the new plan, and actually car

18G5.]

OF ARISTOPHANES.

ried everything before them. The as-
sembly flattered the women with the
most extravagant praise, and covered
the men with the most foul abuse. The
poor men were denounced as villains,
thieves, and tyrants. To read this act,
one would think that this old Greek
comedy had furnished both the ideas
and the language of the late conven-
tion of strong-minded women in New
York. It is amusing to see how the
coarse ribaldry repeats itself here, in
our country, after a lapse of more than
two thousand and four hundred years.
Do we call this strong-minded move-
ment a modern thing ? Is it progress?
Its step is backward, towards the most
profane and licentious era of Grecian
history.

After the women have, in the dis-
guise of men, voted all power into their
hands, they hasten home to re-attire
themselves in their own garments. The
following is a specimen of the fashion
in which these strong-minded Greek
dames met their circumvented hus-
bands :

Blkphyrus — Whence come you, wife of mine?

Praxagora — Imports it to thee
To know ?

Blephyrus — Imports me? A pretty ques-
tion!

Praxagora — Mayhap you think I come from
a gallant?

Blephyrus — From ten belike, not one.
Praxagora — Well, man, 'tis easy
To resolve the doubt.

Blephyrus — How, pray thee ?
Praxagora — Smells my hair
Of perfume ?

Blephyrus— What of that? Would'st thou

persuade me
A woman ne'er intrigues, save when she's

perfumed ?

Praxagora — Such is the rulo with mo.

Blephyrus — But to the point ;

Wherefore did'st thou steal away at early

dawn,
And steal my cloak ?

As the scene progresses, the wife

tells her husband at least twenty lies
to account for her strange absence, all
of which must be very suggestive, and
very comforting reading for a man who
is so fortunate as to have a strong-
minded convention woman for a wife.
But the leader of the Grecian strong-
minded proceeds to lay down the re-
forms the women were about to intro-
duce, which the reader will perceive
bear a remarkable likeness to the
crochets of the reformers of our day :

Praxagora — And justice doth proclaim
That ail things be in common, and our style
of life the same.

Blephyrus — How, pray thee ?

Praxagora — Stop your mouth with dung.

Blephyrus — Shall that, I beseech, be com-
mon too ?

Praxagora — No, fool ; but peace, nor inter-
rupt my speech.

Fist, then, of all the property which every
man has got,

Together when collected, I would make one
common lot ;

From that fund we the women will, like pro-
vident trustees,

Appoint out to each enough for comfort and
for ease.

Blephyrus — But what, I pray, wilt do with
those who though no land they hold,

Keep treasured up a secret store of silver and
of gold?

Praxagora — To render in a true account, on
oath, shall they be made ;

The penalty, if perjured found —

Blephyrus — Pshaw ! perjury is their trade,

From this grew all their riches ; then sup-
pose you they'd be loath

Again, if need require, to take a solemn and
false oath ?

The dialogue goes on to give all the
arguments of the Foueristic philosophy
adopted by our modern strong-minded
women and reformers, and in language
more argumencative and plausible than
any we find in our latter-day conven-
tions-
Next we shall find Aristophanes de-
tailing the peculiar matrimonial, or free-
love philosophy of our own convou-
tionists :

Blephyrus — But we'll a upposo some cr arm-
ing lass a man should chance espy,

THE FEMALE PARLIAMENT

[Jan.,

Will the general purse supply a sum with
which her smiles to buy V

Praxagora — No need to buy, since gratis he

may take her to his arms ;
My law enacts that women lend to all alike

their charms.

Blephyrus — But if all upon the prettiest lass
their choice should fix, who knows

That this will not give ample scope for fifty
cuffs and blows ?

Paxagora — 'Gainst this contingency, as is fit,

the law doth this provide,
The handsome and the ugly shall be seated

side by side ;
Whoe'er then to the pretty lass would fain

pay his addresses,
Must first on the ill-favored one bestow some

kind caresses.

Blephyrus — By Jove ! a law-giver profound,

and fit to rule the State ;
Full well have you provided that no maid

shall lack a mate ;
Now kindly for us men contrive some saving

clause, I pray,
Since women always fly the old and seek the

young and gay.

Prax agora — I will, for if a frisky lass a woo-
ing wish to go,

She on the old and ugly first her kisses must
bestow.

The picture Aristophanes gives of
the strong-minded women of his time
is as little nattering to their beauty as
to their morals. They were a lost class ;
discontented at home, corrupt and dis-
agreeable abroad. If they were not a
wretched style of beings, his represen-
tation of them could never have been
tolerated by the public opinion of
Athens. To have held up well-behaved
and virtuous women to such merciless
contempt could never have been allow-
ed, even on the Greek stage, where the
greatest license was permitted. The
fifth act opens with a scene in the
street of Athens. At a window ap-
pears a fat old woman in flame-colored
taffeta, smeare*l with paints, and bent
on conquest. She sings :

First Old Woman (affettuosameuta)— -Ah !

wherefore from the banquet gay
Winds no reveller this way ?
Decked in saffron robe I've stood,
Half the day in loving mood,
Of love-songs singing snatches ;

My charms half revealed,
And by paint and by patches

My wrinkles concealed.
Now, muse, my cause befriending,
Deign, on my lips descending,
Thence to draw forth notes that may
Rival soft Ionia's lay.

Nothing can be more disgusting than
the picture here drawn of such a horrid
old beldame straining after the lays of
Iona. The Ionians were the most vo-
luptuous people in the world. They
are referred to by Horace in these
words : Motus doceri gaudet Ionicos.
Their music, their dances, and their po-
etry, were formed into peculiar soft-
ness and delicacy. Even their laugh-
ter had something so voluptuous, that
Ionikos gelos became a proverb. Aris-
tophanes' fat old strong-minded, there-
fore, attempted to put on the most lan»
guishing, captivating, and voluptuous
airs of which human beauty is capable.
It must have been a sight to make the
impassable gods laugh. One would
think that the poet had here spent his
wrath upon the victims of his satire,
but he has not. Again he opens the
mouth of the wrinkled old jade, and
makes her attempt to sing' to a hand-
some young flute-player who is passing
by:

Whoe'er desires with eager lip
Of pleasure's honied cup to sip,

O, let him seek these arms !
The unexperienced maiden's heart
No fervor feels, none can impar.t,

Nor knows of love the charms !
Whoso blest would wish to be,
Let him then resort to me.

The old fright is next shown off in a
contention with a young woman who
takes it upon herself to be merry at
these antique tricks of love :

Old Woman — What signifies maj1- age ?

Young Woman — Not a jot, but from thy paint
And cosmetics such an odor comes as
Almost makes me faint.

Old Woman — Why bandy words with me ?

1865.]

OF ARISTOPHANES.

Young Woman — Why out of the window ga e

all day ?
Oi;D Woman — Epigenes, my darling, I expect

to pass this way,
Him in song I would fain address. He comes.

Young Woman — But not in quest, I hope and
trust, of such a wrinkled fright.

Old Woman — Baggage! soon shalt thou see.

A young- man, covered with flowers,
stops under the young woman's win-
dow, and sings :

Young Man — Luscious nectar to sip,

From the roseate Jip

0: this maiden, how great the delight !

But if I must iirst

Kiss this beldame accursed,

The penance will kill m e outright !

Old Woman (peeping from the window) — Re-
pent it I swear

Yon shall, if you dare,
To kiss the young damsel make free ;

'Tis vain to defy

The law, so comply,

And first come here and kiss me.

Young Man — Against my will, none shall, I
vow, exact a kiss from me.

Old Woman — If milder measures fail, I have
that which shall compel thee.

Young Man — Then what it is, without delay,
good granny piease to tell me.

Old Woman — Nothing less than law, which
will force thee to heed me. *

Young Man — The document read.

Old Woman (pulls out a scroll and reads> —

To the ladies of Athens, wno rule o'er the

State,
In their wisdom this law has seemed good to

make :
" If a fond, loving youth, by chance cast his

eye
On a damsel of beauty, as she passes by,
Ere las wishes are granted, behoves it that

he
The mate of some loving old woman shall be;
But if to the damsel to cleave he shaii choose,
Ami the old dame's affection contemptuous

refuse,
Each and every old woman we hereby em-
power
The offender to drag, e'en from this very

hour,
By whate'er she thinks fit, be it arm, leg, or

hair,
Untd ho consent his offence to repair."

The old woman seizes him. He man-
fully struggles for the possession o

* Such, it will be remembered, was the law
passed by the slruiig-miudtd in tho. r parlia-
ment.

his own lips, against the inexorable,
the merciless law of the strong- mind-
ed woman of the parliament. At last
he appeals to the essoine. The essoine
is an excuse in law for a party who is
summoned to answer to an action, but
is unable to obey. The old woman in-
forms him that no man can, by the
late laws, interfere in anything except
a peck of corn. By the laws of Athens
no woman could deal with any person
for more than the value of a peck of
corn. The women had turned the ta-
bles upon the men, and applied the
law to them, in the Comedy of the Fe-
male Parliament. The reader is anx-
ious to know what became of the young
man. AVe shudder to relate. Two
more old women, each more hideous
than the first, rush in to claim him.
The struggle is frightful. They will
tear him limb from limb ! And, horri-
ble to relate, the comedy finally closes
leaving the fate of the poor wretch
shrouded in impenetrable mystery,

AVe rise from the task of translating:
these things with a mind cut through
and through with horror, at the bare
mention of strong-minded women. If
any women in Athens acknowledged
themselves to be of such a class after
the performance of Aristophanes' Fe-
male Parliament, they must have been
demons in disguise. Such pictures of
fro ward ignorance and disgusting vice,
never were drawn by mortal genius be-
fore. The very nostrils ache with the
moral stench of such unnatural beings.
Angels of light turned into such fright-
ful monsters of deformity ! Woman,
the fairest, the sweetest, the loveliest
creation of heaven, hurled down into
an abyss of fiends 1 It is a wonder
that such distortions of nature should
in our time he called strong-uunded wo*

THE FEMALE PARLIAMENT

[Jan.,

men ! Who could have given them
such a name? Foul-minded were a
better term. Shallow-minded, at any
rate. The poor things have scraped
the follies and vices of all ages toge-
ther, and call them "Reforms!" Not
one of their philanthropical vagaries
that cannot be duplicated out of the
moral sinks of past generations. Re-
forms ! Malforms! What a sight did
we behold here in New York at the
late convention ? Women, with white
husbands, raving about negroes by the
hour at a time ! Screaming for more
war, and snuffing blood like tigers !
A convention of hyenas, yelling over
the graves of the dead. God forbid
that we should call them women!
They are frightful gorgons. They are
another Medusa, who was once a beau-
tiful woman, with fair hair, but having
lost her womanly purity and delicacy,
her hair was turned into snakes, which
caused all who looked upon her to be
turned into stone. How typical this
of the hardening influence of the so-
ciety of our female conventionists upon
the tender and charming character of
woman ! It is but a few months since
the city of New York saw a sight
which was never matched by ancient
or modem times. A grand deputation

of white women, the wives of New
York merchants, publicly presented a
company of negroes a banner, as a
" token of their love and honor !" The
ancients attempted to satirize such fe-
male monstrocity by the fable of Pasi-
phce, the daughter of Sol, who was in
love with a bull, and who brought into
the world the Minotaur, a horrible de-
formity ol half man and half bull. An
awful warning to such merchants as
encourage their wives in the unwo-
manly business of presenting negroes
with tokens of their love and honor I
What man, who properly appreciates
female delicacy and propriety of man-
ners, will suffer his wife or daughter
to associate with women who could so
far forget the sweetest instincts of wo-
manly taste and dignity? We turn
away with loathing from their prosti-
tuted minds. From their very forms
the imagination shrinks, as from so
many lumps of dishonored clay — pieces
of corruption, fitter for the charnel-
house than the bosom of affection ! 0,
that Aristophanes were not dead !
That he were still alive to lash, with
the whip of satire and scorn, the mon-
strous delusions, the abominations of
this degenerate hour I

-~+-

ALONE WITH THEE.

Last night I sat alone with thee ;

Thy gentle eyes and mine were met—
Thy words were all of life to me —

If thou art gone life's sun is set.

Upon my own thy hand was laid ;

My name in murmurs soft was spoken ;
"iiut ah," my heart with sighing said,

* How vain to join tiie chain that's broken. n

1865.]

THE DUKE DE LA ROCHEFOUCAULT's MAXIMS ON LOVE.

THE DUKE DE LA ROCHEFOUCAULT'S MAXIMS ON LOVE.

The Moral Maxims of Francis the
Sixth, Duke de la Rochefoucault, have
enjoyed a high degree of popularity
among men of letters, not only in
France, but throughout the civilized
world, for more than a hundred and
eighty years. The author was one of
the brightest ornaments of the French
Court of his time. He was more than
the ornament of a court, he was a
teacher of mankind ; and finally closed
his life at Paris in 1GS0, aged sixty-
three, as ripe in the affection and res-
pect of his countrymen as in years.
The accomplished Marchioness de Se-
vigne, speaking of his last illness, says:
"Nor has he passed his life in making
reflections and maxims to no purpose ;
he has thereby rendered death so fa-
miliar to him, that the aspect is neither
new nor shocking-" His book formed
a new era in French literature. The
severest of all critics, M. de Voltaire,
says : " It accustomed our authors to
think, and to comprise their thoughts
in a lively, correct, and delicate turn
of phrase, which was a merit unknown
to any European writer before him,
since the revival of letters. His me-
moirs are still read, and his maxims
are known by heart." Lord Chester-
field's letters give, on almost every
page, evidences of a profound acquain-
tance with the writings of this distin-
guished Frenchman. In letter 210,
his lordship says : " Would you know
man independently of modes, read La
Rochefoucault, who, lam afraid, paints
him very exactly." Again, in letter
225, he says : "'Till you come to know

mankind by your own experience, I
know nothing, nor no man, that can,
in the meantime, bring you so well ac-
quainted with them as Le Due de la
Rochefoucault. His little book of max*
ims, which I would advise you to look
into for a few minutes at least every
day of your life, is, I fear, too like and
too exact a picture of human nature."

Kocliefoucault's Book of Maxims co.
vers the whole field of society and mo-
rals, embracing reflections on not less
than eighty-six subjects. But our pre-
sent purpose is to quote only from his
maxims on love, which appear to us to
contain about all the best thoughts, on
that subject, which have been written
in any language since his day :

maxim 230.

"No disguise can long conceal love where
it really is, nor feign it where it is not.''

The eyes, especially, are great tell-
tales in love, and betray the secret
even when least they wish to do so.
Lord Byron has, somewhere, the same
thought. He lets the secret out
" through the vainly-guarded eye."
Thus the very arts and little tricks
which lovers employ to hide their pas-
sion from all but themselves are almost
sure to reveal it to all the world. The
novice lover, who thinks himself clad
in impenetrable armor against the in-
quisitive gaze of his friends and asso-
ciates, is quite sure to be laughed at
by all of them, even when he thinks
himself most secure.

But it is by no menus so difficult to
fciyn lovs as it is to conceal it ; espo

THE DUKE DE ROCHEFOUCAULx's

[Jan.,

cially with the young and inexperi-
enced. To genuine, honest love there
is a timidity, an almost tremulous de-
licacy, which does not belong to its
counterfeit, which those who are expe-
rienced in the world easily compre-
hend ; but alas, it is not so apparent
to the inexperienced and trusting maid-
en, whose own sincerity too often
causes her to be deceived by false pro-
fessions— by acted love.

MAXIM 231.

" Since it is no more in our power to love
than it is to avoid it, a lover has no right to
complain of his sweetheart's inconstancy,
nor she of her lover's."

This passage is possibly more philoso-
phical than practical ; for, however in-
voluntary love may be, the smart at
desertion is none the less keen and tor-
menting. The forsaken lover rarely
finds consolation in the thought that the
false one " couldn't help it." However
true it may be, it is still a point of phi-
losophy that lies a good ways beyond
the reach of an ardent lover.

MAXIM 232.

*' It is hard to define love. We may say of
it, however, that in the soul it is a desire to
reign ; in the mind a sympathy ; in the body
a secret inclination to enjoyment after diffi-
culties."

This confused and unintelligible de-
finition of love would be a disgrace to
its noble author if anybody else had
ever succeeded in giving an intelligi-
ble one. Shelley, in attempting to ex-
plain it, gives up in disgust, and ex-
claims : " What is love ? Ask him
who lives, what is life ? Ask him who
adores, what is God?" In attempting
to define love, Hobbes gropes in this
manner : " It is the love of one singu-
larity, with desire to be singularly
loved." That is worse than Kocheibu-

cault's definition. Victor Hugo's defi-
nition is enigmatical, but beautiful:
" To love is to be two, and be but one ;
the man and woman are but one : it is
heaven." The dreamy Arsene Hous-
saye has a very easy definition : " It
is the dew that descends from heaven
into our hearts." Certainly a very pi-
ous definition of a passion which lias
wrought more mischief and unhappi-
ness than all other things beside. But
then, on the other hand, we must p ss
to its credit that it has also adminis-
tered more bliss and comfort to the
human heart than all other sources of
human good. But let us give up at-
tempting to explain it.

maxim 233.

"Love, in some of its affects, looks more
like hatred than kindness.'*

Lucretius, who wrote a hundred years
before the Christian era, has this
thought :

Quod petiere premunt arde, ftehmtque dolorem,
Corporis, et dentes iliidunt scepe labtllU:

"What they desire, they hurt ; and 'midst tha

bliss,
Raise pain, when often with a furious kiss
They wound the balmy lip.

But we suppose that this cruelty,
this disposition to tease and torment a
lover, which sometimes shows itself,
is to be charged, not so much to love
itself as to the natural disposition of
the party exercising it ; or it may
sometimes spring from a lingering
jealousy, and is used as a sort of test
of the strength of a sweetheart's love.
These tormenting experiments, how-
ever, are dangerous. Love is a tender
plant, not to be safely trodden upon.

maxim 236.
"Love, like fire, subsists by continual mo-
tion ; when it ceases to hupa or ie&r, it ceases
to exist."

1865.]

MAXIMS ON LOVE.

MAXIM 237.

" Love lends its name to many a corres-
pondence, in which he is as little concerned
as the Doge in what passes in Venice."

maxim 338.
"The more you love your sweetheart, the
easier it is to hate her."

We get the moaning of this paradox-
ical maxim by reversing it, and say-
ing : the more indifferent we are to an
object, the lean likely are we to become of-
fended with it. Indifference is an ef-
fectual shield against jealousy.

maxim 339.

" To love is the least error in a woman who
has abandoned herself to love."

Cicero has the same thought in ano-
ther form : " Viros ad unum qucdque
maleficium singulce cupidates impellunt;
mulieres aulem ad omina maleficia cupi-
ditas una ducitP " Single vices make
men commit single crimes ; but one
vice makes woman guilty of all." The
reason may be that woman, when she
does slip, has farther to fall than man.
And when once fallen, society inexora-
bly casts her out, as lost forever. She
is left without the saving inspiration
of hope, or any encouraging motive for
sol {-recovery. That is more the fault
of society than of woman's nature.
Leave a fallen man without motive or
hope of recovery, and where does he go
to? Out of sight into the depths of
vice.

maxim 240.

"There are those who had never been in
love, had they never talked of it."

MAXIM 211.

" The pleasure of love is in loving ; we aro
happier in the passion wo feel than in that
we excite."

MAXIM 242.

" T ) fall in lovo is much easier than to get
out of it."

maxim 243.

" Novelty to love, like bloom to fruit, gives
a lustre which is easi'y effaced ; but it never
returns. "

maxim 241.

" Those whom we have once csased to love,
can never be the objects of our love a second
time."

August Guyard expresses a similar
thought thus : " An old love may be
revived — a worn-out love never." What
a fearful thought to those who truly
love, that the sweetest affection may
be easily killed, but brought to life,
never 1

MAXIM 245.
" We forgive just as long as we love.

maxim 246.
" In love we often doubt what we must be-
lieve."

maxim 247.

" The man who fancies that he loves his
sweetheart for her own sake, is much mista-
ken."

Most people will instinctively dis-
sent from this maxim. Its fault springs
from the philosophy of Kochefoucault,
which is, that all human actions spring
from self-love. That this is the main-
spring of human action may be conced-
ed, without necessarily involving the
purely affectional nature of man in the
selfish principle.

maxim 248.

"Young women who would not be coquets,
and old men who would not be ridiculous,
should never speak of love as in any way
concerning themselves."

People of refinement and taste are
little given to talk about their own love
affairs, at any time, whether old or
young.

maxim 210.

"Nothing is moro natural and more falla-
cious than to persuade ourselves that wo are
beloved.

THE DUKE DE ROCHEFOUCAULTTS MAXIMS ON LOVE.

Jan.,

That depends upon the amount of
sense a person possesses. A shallow
and vain young man is very apt to
think that every woman who treats him
with politeness is in love with him ;
but we cannot imagine a man of sense
making such a blunder.

maxim 251.

"In all passions we commit faults ; in love,
We are guilty of the most ridiculous ones. "

maxim 254.

••Love, all agreeable as it is, pleases more
in its manner than in itself."

Love is a great inspirer of good man-
ners, by those thousand delicate atten-
tions which make the sum of true po-
liteness. There is no better place to
study the art of manners and politeness
than the presence of two genuine and
sensible lovers.

maxim 255.
" Women in love forgive great indiscretions
sooner than small indelicacies."

maxim 256.

" A lover never sees the faults of his sweet-
heart 'till the enchantment is over."

maxim 257.
" "We are nearer loving those who hate us
than those who love us more than we choose."

maxim 258.
" A man of sense may love like a madman,
but never like a fool."

maxim 260.
"Love and prudence are inconsistent ; as
the former increases, the latter must de-
crease."

Ovid also makes love and dignity in-
consistent, thus :

Kon bene convenient, nee in una sede morantur,
Majestas et Amor.

But we believe neither with Ovid nor
Kochefoucalt. We believe that love is
consistent with both prudence and dig-
nity. If it were not, there would be
neither safety nor respectability in lov-
ing. We would, indeed, reverse the
thought of both the Latin and the
French author, and say that true love
is the greatest inspirer of dignity, and
that prudence is the only friend of true
love. Those who venture to treat the
divine passion with a less scrupulous
propriety will find, at last, that they
have committed a fatal mistake. They
must lose the bliss of loving, if not of
being loved. The popular habit of re-
presenting love as some sort of witch-
craft, whose chief business is to lead
people astray from the paths of pro-
priety and virtue, is both ruinous to a
healthy literature, and dishonoring tc
the Author of our being. Away with
the degrading idea that a beneficent
God has made the most beautiful and
charming passion of our nature a stum-
bling-block of sin and delusion 1 It is
precisely the absense of genuine love
that works all this mischief. The mo-
dern reform philosophy of free-love is
simply the science of lust, invented,
one might think, to convert the society
of men and women into a community
of monkeys. Take all the vagaries of
the present hour, and is society much
better than that ? Everywhere we see
the brutal instincts rising above tho
divine and the human.

1865.]

FINANCIAL LYYING.

FINANCIAL LYING.

If dizziness is a luxury to any man,
we advise him to sit down and attempt
to comprehend the speed with which
we are whirling on into bankruptcy.
Indeed, if we had but the sense to know
it, we are there already. The other
day the Tribune professed to be fright-
ened at the fact that we are running
into debt at the rate of fee thousand
millions of dollars a year. What would
it be if it should get the courage or the
honesty to look the real figures in the
face, and own up to the truth that we
are actually going on into debt at the
rate of nearly ten thousand millions a
year? These figures are something to
frighten us indeed ; and they would
frighten us but for the fact that we
have for four years been allowing our-
selves to be educated to take alarm at
nothing in the shape of debt, massacre
and despotism. In matters of finance,
particularly, we have been fed so long
on lies, that we reject the truth as un-
palatable, and even disloyal, nourish-
ment. To lie about the cost of the war
is one of the signs of super-excellent
" loyalty." Indeed the estimates and
reports of the Treasury Department for
the last three years might be published
in a book of the taking title of " Lying
Made Easy ; or Lessons in Lying for
the Use of Beginners.11

Example 1st. Secretary Chase, in his
Report of July, 1801, assured the coun-
try that all the government required
for the fiscal year was $318,519,681
The confessed expenditure of that year
was $583,884,247 ; cr $205,000w /00
more than appeared in the Treasury es-
timate, llad the people been allowed

to see the actual sum required, it would
probably have caused them to reflect
as to the wisdom of plunging headlong
into such a gigantic war upon the so-
vereign and co-equal sister States of
the South.

Example 2d. In Mr. Chase's next Re-
port, he assured the patient, the hood-
winked people, that all it would require
to push on the war to the close of the
fiscal year, ending June 30, 1803, was
$475,331,245. It turned out that the
acknowledged expenditure of that year
was $788,558,777. That was $3! 5,000,-
000 more than the people were ma.de to
believe would be necessary to go on
with the bloody experiment for another
year. But it would have been dange-
rous to the interest of the Consohda-
tionists to let the people know the
real cost of their experiment in despot-
ism in advance.

Example 3d. The public having been
twice fooled in relation to the extent to
which they must put their hands in
their pockets for the luxury of conquer-
ing the people of the South, the cunning
Secretary foresaw that he must begin
to approach something like the actual
figures of expense. So in his estimate
for the year ending June 30, 1804, he
reached the bold sum of $1,099,731,900.
To blunt the effect of such a sum upon
the popular mind, we were assured that
it would meet all the expenses for the
year, and leave a balance of $350,000.-
000 in the Treasury for future opera-
tions. The idea was sweet, especially
to those who had already lost their
common sense. Beautiful thought ! to
have $350,000,000 in the Treasury— all

FINANCIAL LYING.

fJan., 1865.]

the fools in the land almost instantly
forgot the one billion called for, and
patted their shallow brains in noisy de-
light at the bare thought of the phan-
tom surplus, $350,000,000. This time
the infatuated public was deceived on-
ly in the paltry sum of $126,000,000.

Example 4th. The next estimate of
Mr. Chase was for the fiscal year to
end June 30, 1865, which promised the
people that they could carry on their
new specimen of tyranny to that pe-
riod for the inconsiderable amount of
$1,151,846,089. But now the new Se-
cretary, Mr. Fessenden, is obliged to
tell ns that the expense for the year,
ending next June, will be $1,419,082,-
455, which is two hundred and forty
millioiis more than Mr. Chase promised
it should cost. Thus, from the begin-
ning of the war to this moment, the re-
ports and estimates of the Treasury
Department have been one string of
unblushing deception. Nor do these
published figures, by any means, give
the full amount of deception, for there
are we know not how many millions of
unsettled, and even of unpresented
claims against the government, not in-
cluded in any of these statements.

Thus has the Treasury Department
adroitly deluded and led the people
from point to point in relation to the
eums required to carry on the war.
Mr. Abraham Lincoln and Mr. Secre-
tary Seward have repeatedly told
the public that the country was never
in the enjoyment of such great finan-
cial prosperity as now ; and we are
ashamed to say that there have been
plenty of asses to believe them. That
man indeed is a fool who can believe
the country to be financially prosper-
ing when millions of its inhabitants
have been abstracted from the fields of
productive industry, and placed in the

category of mere consumers or destroy-
ers of amassed wealth. The annual
falling off in our shipments of bread-
stuffs to Europe, during the progress of
the war, tells the story of a fatal de-
cline in real prosperity. The Agricul-
tural Bureau shows that in 1864 we
have shipped two millions of barrels
less of flour than we did in 1862. In
1864 we have shipped about seventeen
millions of bushels less of wheat than
we did in 1861-2 ; and we have ship-
ped nearly fourteen millions less of In-
dian corn than in 1861-2. These stait-
ling figures represent, to a great ex-
tent, the absolute falling off in the pro-
ductive wealth of the country. If Mr.
Lincoln and Mr. Seward are not arrant
impostors or studied deceivers of the
people, the Agricultural Department of
the Federal Administration must evi-
dently be a very " disloyal" concern.
These tricksters should either stop their
lying proclamations about public pros-
perity, or abolish the Bureau of Agri-
culture, with its damning array of
figures, which show a fatal decrease of
public wealth. Everything a man eats,
and drinks, and wears, has risen in
price from two hundred to four hundred
per cent., while the trash that is called
money has run down to forty-five cents
on the dollar. Still the working man
is told that he is prosperous. True
the price of wages has advanced ; but
how much ? Not enough to meet the

laborer's individual increase of expens-
es, leaving the three, or five, or seven
members of his family to be somehow
kept alive, under this vast augmenta-
tion of prices, without one cent's in-
crease per capita of the means of sup-
port. And these people are told that
they are prosperous. If they believe it,
their stupidity is surpassed only by the
impudence and the downright finan-
cial falsehood of Mr. Lincoln and the
supporters of his treasouous revolution.

EDITOR'S TABLE.

— May we, without mockery, wish our pa-
trons a Happy Neio Year? If our wishes
could make the year of 18G5 a happy one,
misery and want should be unknown through-
out the world. Bat, alas, to us in America
it must be a year of blood and suffering. The
foul spirit of war is a disease, as much so as
any epidemic, or infectious distemper, and,
when once it attacks a nation, it must run
its course. That means an indefinite period,
according to the constitution or resources of
the patient. While there is vitality left for
the insatiable malady to prey upon, we may
expect it to last. It is a madness that must
run its time like a fever. To be guilty of no
mockery of the afflicted, therefore, we will
wish the people a speedy return to reason
and happiness ; and for our patrons, espe-
cially, we wish all the happiness which
springs from the consciousnes of sharing no
part of the responsibility of the great and
damning crime of the war. All hail, fellow-
*' copperheads," or whatever name is used
to denote those patriotic and brave citizens,
who can neither be bribed by greenbacks nor
faightened by a bastile ! All hail, friends of
the Union and Constitution our fathers made !
The Old Guard sends you greeting. After
two years of battling against despotism, dur-
ing which time it has not once surrendered
to the foe, it enters upon the campaign of
18G5, reinforced to double its former strength,
and with no abatement of tho determination
and courage which havo carried it through
past conflicts. Bat as enlisting is the order
of tho day with our implacable enemy, may
we not hope that each of oar patrons will ex-
ert himself to send us as many new recruits
as possible, to render Tile Oed Guard more

formidable than ever to the disunion hosts
of the Abolitionists ?

— The lady who writes us of the sufferings
and desolation which this war has brought
upon her heart — sufferings to which she nei-
ther yields by weak murmurs, nor by bending
before the despotism that wrongs her — com-
mands our profoundest sympathy, as well as
our admiration. There is nothing, perhaps,
in all cultivated human nature more impres-
sive than the spectacle of a heart, beat upon
by pain or wrong, rising higher and higher,
on the very bosom of their waves. Whether
it be the stoic, crying out to the anguish and
calamity of life, "Rex sum" — "I am your
master" — or the iEschilean Prometheus, ly-
ing beneath his chains, wraeked by the eter-
nal vulture at his heart, but defying the pow-
er of the tyrant ; or a gentle woman, over-
whelmed by a crue[ despotism, that robs her
of her husband and her children, and drives
her out, from the cherished roof where she
was born, into the derisive storms of want
and insult, but is still unable* to conquer her
spirit, the spectacle is still the same, and
challenges the same tribute of exalted sym-
pathy from all surrounding manhood.

— The phylosopher says : " Time is mo- •
ney." The poet says the same thing less
briefly :

Hours, minutes, moments, are the small coin
Tnat make the sum of even the richest life.

— The papers announce that "Mr. Chase
is appointed to fill the place of Chief Justice
Taney." Mr. Chase may sit in the same offi-
cial chair, bat he can never fill Judge Ta-
ney's place. A coon may sit in a lion's den,
and set up to be a lion, and attempt to roar,
bat it will bo only a coon still.

— A magazine writer mourns that there is
so much genius lost to tho world for the want
of opportunity and cultivation. Nonsense !
If a man does not cultivate a talent it is
proof that he has it not. If a mm is a poet
you cannot stop bin from making verses.
Alas! tnero aro numbers whom we oaunot

TWTTOR S TAB^h.

[Jan.,

stop from ranking verses who are not poets.
If a man is a musician, he will make music
in spite of circumstances. Men of genius are
not made by circumstances. They make cir-

cuumstances.

— A Boston critic yokes Boileau and Qui-
nault together as "the leaders of the best
school of French poets." But there is no
likeness between the two. Boileau was the
poet of Keason ; Quinault of the Graces.
Their poesy is no more alike than the laurels
of Virgil and the roses of Anacreon. Boi-
leau is always severe and correct. Quinault
always sweet and amiable. Bat neither form-
ed a school.

— A receipt for saving the Union. — Burn
down the houses, colleges, and school-houses
of the South. Convert their churches into
bowling-alleys, assignation-houses, and bar-
rooms. Fire their wheat fields ; steal their
spoons ; smash up their pianos ; turn their
women and children, and helpless old men,
naked into the fields and woods ; outrage
their women. Then tell them that you on^y
seek to establish among them the blessed
free institutions, the industry and morals of
the North. If they do not instantly come
cheerfully back into the Union, roast every
rascaJ of them alive, and give them to the
Abolitionists to eat, That will form as glo-
rious a union as ever existed between the
stomach of a wolf and the body of a sheep.
Beutiful!

— A cotemporary quotes the following dis-
tich from Collins :

" How sleep the brave who sink to rest,
By all their country's wishes blest!"

Exquisite lines, which, if less forcible, are
equal in beauty to the following from the
First Elegy of Tyrta3us, with which Collins
was evidently familiar ;

44 Now fallen, the noblest of the van, he dies!

His city by the beauteous death renown'd ;
His low-bent father marking where he lies,

The shield, the breast-plate hack'd by many
a wound.

The young, the old, alike commingling tears,
His country's htaoij grief bedews the grave;

And all his race in verdant lustre wears
Fame's richest wreath, transmitted from
the brave.''

But what wretched mockery to app'y any
of tnese tines to the unfortunate soldiers who

have lost their lives in Sherman's house-
burning and woman-ravishing raid through
the State of Georgia ! What proianation of
the muse! Our heart bleeds for the young
men who have perished, while our soul sick-
ens at the base purposes for which they have
been used. House-burning and rape are not
war. We will acknowledge no man to be a
Christian gentleman who does not condemn
such brutal havoc, done in the prostituted
name of warfare. We would not, knowingly,
take a wretch by the hand who does not sick-
en at such scenes.

— We must decline the "Epigram on a La-
dy who put off the Promise of a Kiss till To-
morrow.'" The postponement must have
been vexatious to the poet, but we should not
be warranted in publishing his griefs, unless
sung in numbers a little more artistic. The
following, from an old Greek poet, is on the
same subject. We advise our correspondent
to adopt it :

" To-morrow!" This to-morrow ne'er is seen.

Habitual plea of dilatory spleen.

To me be kind to-day — nor others give

What I, to-morrows fool, shall ne'er receive.

"This evening!" What's a woman's even-
ing V Years !

Evening that comes too late when beauty dis-
appears.

—It is said that Mr. Holt does not at all
wince at being called Titus Oates. He prob-
ably does not know what he is called when
li<> is compared to Titus Oates. His great
English namesake caused several innocent
people to be put to death by swearing that
they were involved in treasonous plots which
were pureiy his own lying inventions. The
man who would not wince at being called
'lilus Odes, scarcely would do so at being
called Judas Iscariot.

— O. A. Brownson has found a new name
for the llepubiican party, viz., " The Party
of Doctrines." Why does he not give the
French of the very thing, viz., la CI que Doc-
trinaire ? The Doctrinaire clique of France
was a clique of political philosophers, always
ready with some new doctrine fitted to revo-
lutionize the government, and overthrow all
established customs of civilization. Eng-
land also has had its Doctrinaire clique, which,
always inspired by the atheistic doctrines of
the French Doctrinaires has been ready

1865.]

EDITOR S TABLE.

to agitate themselves ir>to notoriety when-
ever a chance for popular defection occurred.
And now, alas, America too has its clique
Doe.lri'tidre. An erudite doctor of the clique,
even Doctor Brownson, makes English of the
French name, and, without forethought,
slaps it upon his party. It is the right name
in the right place.

— The wife of a shoddy contractor walked
down Broadway the other day, flaunting in a
dress that cost $2,500. At that same hour
there were thousands of soldiers wives and
widows who ure starving and dying for the
want of the necessaries of life in this city.

— The country newspapers are anxiously
enquiring what has become of the diabolical
wretches who attempted to fire the hotels of
New York. We think they may be seen al-
most any night in the bosom of the loyal
league lodges of this city.

— Pent is now kept for sale as an article of
fuel in Boston. Tiie judgment-day is work-
ing. The looiish people who have supported
this war will at last surely reach a piont
where they will get enough of it. Then they
will turn upon the rich rascals who have used
and ruined them.

— Gen. Grant must be a very feeling man,
for all he is such a butcher of his men. We
have had sixty or seventy accounts of his
"feeliug for Lee's position in force." Every
time he felt it, and retired.

— An Abolition editor calls us "a heart-
less traitor," and wants to know what we are
going to do about it. Why, sir, only to say
that we look upon you with a great degree of
interest, as a tine specimen of petrified igno-
ramus.

— An army correspondent thinks we have
"heard the last of Ben. Butler's ditch." But
when shall we hear the last of Ben. Butler ?
His duck is harmless.

— An editor is in trouble because some
amiable people take the liberty to laugh at
his defeated candidate, and sharply says that
•• it is easy for the live ass to kick the dead
lion." True ; a good deal easier than to
make a lice lion out of a dead ass.

— A correspondent writes, "we think it
will puzzle any white man to discover the

wit of the editorials in Harpers' s Magazine."
The reason, probably, is, that it is not intend-
ed for white men, but for blade men. Harper s
is intensely the organ of negroes. It inces-
santly blackguards Democrats as " traitors,"
because they are white men, with the princi-
ples of white men. A white man with nvjro
principles might suit it ; but are afraid that
even such a nondescript wid be bothered to
find such a thing as wit in its vapid negro
philipics.

—The black Sons of New England in New
York, have lately held an election of officers
of their society. Why don't the white Sons
of New England, resident in this city, form
a white man's society of that kind ? Men of
the complexion of Beecher and Bellows are
prominent geniuses in the Society of the
black Sons of New England, which gives its
annual dinners at the Astor House.

— The last number of Harper's Magazine
contains a " disloyal" picture. It is called
"The Interview between Grant and Pember-
ton." Gen. Grant is made to look like a
"nonchalant" young rowdy, leaning, with
his arms folded, against a tree, smoking a ci-
gar, while to Pemberton is given the air and
manners of a gentleman.

— Polybius says : "There are two points
which are essential parts in every govern-
ment ; and these are the laws and the man-
ners." Then our government is, at the pre-
sent time, in a very bad way, for it is desti-
tute of both laws and manners.

— A wealthy Republican, who enjoys a
splendid mansion on Staten Island, has the
fortune to be the father of a young daughter
who has recently become the mother of a
pair of twins ; but the most singular part of
the story is, that the father's teaching cre-
ated such a powrful sympathy in the young
lady s mind for tfae " poor oppressed negro,"
that both her children came into the world as
black as the ace of spades. Some of the
neighbors profess to think that these inter-
esting specimens of the "new American man'1
had a remarkable likeness to the gentleman's
negro coachman ; but these are ignorant peo-
ple, who do not understand the power of
sympathy.

— Another caso, similar to the above, ex*

editor's table.-

[Jan.. 1865.]

cept that the new type is in the singular num-
ber, has just occurred in one of the Western
counties of the State. A cotemporary pities
the parents. They probably don't deserve
pity. We rather pity the unfortunate girls
who have such foolish parents, as those who
stimulate their childrens' minds with an un-
natural morbid sympathy for negroes. We
venture to say that no "Copperhead" family
ever becomes ornamented with such boquets
of sweet lilies.

— A gentleman by the name of W. J. Free-
burgher was recently arrested and imprisoned
in Baltimore, for "cursing the President."
Where is the law to punish a man for cursing
the President ? We have no disposition to
curse him, but we shall insist on our right to
do so as much as we have a mind to.

— A journalist whom we suspect of being
a "Copperhead," thinks that "Ben. Butler
will go down to posterity oniy as a cut-throat."
Will he not go down as a cut-purse as well ?
We never heard of Ben. Butler lisking his
skin by attempting to cut anybody's throat ;
but we have heard of him often enough as a
cut-purse. In that character he is now before
the courts of New York.

— The great organ of English opinion says,
that the people of the Northern States are
governed by an army of " Sbirri." That is
hard. The Sbirri were officers of the Inqui-
sition, and celebrated for their rapacious
cruelty and vulgarity.

— A few weeks ago Mr. Seward dined at a
hotel in Washington. As he felt himself the
lion of the table, he undertook to show off
some sage reflections on the quality of the
times. A French lady, who sat opposite to
him, said, in an under tone, but sufficiantiy
loud to be heard by Seward, "loupmoraliite."
The Secretary understood it as a compliment,
and betrayed signs of exquisite satisfaction in
his face. What will be his sensations when
told that the French lady called him "a mo-
ralizing wolf?"

— The editor of the Gardner Spectator says :
"We believe that the editor of The Old
Guard would be uncomfortable at the thought
of going to heaven with an Abolitionist, or a
"War Democrat." We beg our cotemporary
to be assused that we have not the slightest

fear of ever meeting any such company in
that place.

— An English reviewer of the poems of
Elizabeth Barrett Brownieg, thinks the fol-
lowing lines challenge comparison out of the
whole world of sweet verse :

Henceforward, human eyes of lovers be
The only, sweetest sight that I shall see,
With tears between the looks raised up to me.

In touching earnestness and Greek-like
simplicity, are they not quite matched by the
following verses of Helen Bich, one of the
sweetest of our female poets :

I dreamed but now my soul had laid,

Aside its robes of flesh forever.
In darkness drear and loan I strayed,

To see the sunshine never, never !

Ah, that dear heart ! without the the light
And life of its bright love to bless me,

The future would be doubly night,
Nor joy, nor thou, love, to caress me.

Gen. Francis Meagher — General! O, good
Lord deliver us ! says he is " fighting to ex-
tend the blessed institutions of the North
over the South." But how, if the South does
not wish the blessed institutions of the North,
what then ? Why, they must be forced to
take them. Yes, most mighty non-comba-
tive General, just as England forced her
blessed institutions upon Ireland. The
" blessings" the English instisution have pro-
duced in the green vales of Erin, may be
seen in its bloody and flaming annals of mas-
sacre and incendiarism for seven centuries.
The kind of union Engia .id forced upon Ire-
land at the bloody bayonet's point, is the
kind of union this degenerate son of Ireland
would force upon the South. The Union we
want is of another kind — is the Union, and
only the Union, which our fathers made.

" The Third Year op the War," by E. A-
Pollard, giving the Confederate account of
of the terrible contest now going on, i3 just
issued by C. B. Richardson, of this city. Mr.
Pollard wields a graphic pen, and all who de-
sire " the South side" view of the campaign
which commenced with Chanceilorsville, and
ended with the terrible and bloody battle of
the Wilderness, should get this volume. Mr.
Richardson's publications will all be found
advertized on the cover of Tue Old Guard.

THE OLD GUARD,

A MONTHLY JOUMAL, DEVOTED TO THE PRINCIPLES OF 1776 AND 1787.

VOLUME III. — FEBRUARY, 1865. — No. II.

HAVE STATES, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, A RIGHT TO
WITHDRAW FROM THE UNION ?

A leading organ of public opinion —
■ — of Northern, or New England public
opinion — says : " We have the power
to subjugate, or to annihilate, the
South, and one or the other we are go-
ing to do." This programme is plain-
ly announced. No robber ever stated
his point more boldly ; and we suppose
we must take it as a correct declara-
tion of New England morality. The
principle, though shocking, has the me-
rit of simplicity. Let us test it in ano-
ther relation. A man may say, " I
have the power to whip my father and
to beat my mother, and I am going to
do it." This may suit New England
politics, and New England Christianity,
but can it pass for an enlightened pub-
lic morality ? The question is not what
we have the power to do, but what we
have the right to do. We are weary of
this all-bewildering New England jar-
gun on this subject. We have been
mortified to hear this North, where we
were born, braying like an ass about
" rebellion" for almost four years now,
when we know that not one in ten of
the leather-lunged stentors know what

they mean by " rebellion." Indeed it
might puzzle a philosopher to compre-
hend how a " sovereign State" can be a
" rebel." We know that a subject can
rebel against his government ; but
these States are not the subjects of the
federal government. They are the so-
vereign framers, and masters, and own-
ers of that governiEent. It will take
the brain of a fool to find out that qua-
lity of sovereignty which can logically
" rebel." The Federal Government,
which has no original, or sovereign
attributes, and which acts only by
"granted" or "delegated" powers, can
rebel against the sovereign grantors of
those powers — alas, we see that that
is easy enough ! — but let no man, who
would not pass for a dolt, talk about
the master rebelling against the ser-
vant, or the creator rebelling against
the creature. To the Federal Govern-
ment each State assented by an act of
its own individual and separate sove-
reignty. The act of federal union was
net intended to merge those separate
sovereignties into one agglomerated
mass but to preserve and protect them

HAVE STATES, &C,

[Feb.,

in their individuality and separateness.
It was not meant to divest them of so-
vereignty, but to give them the means
of more effectually preserving and de-
fending that sovereignty. Rufus King,
of New York, stated the objects of
the Federal Government, in the Consti-
tutional Convention, in these words :
" What is the object of the general sys-
tem (Government) ? First, defense
against foreign invasion ; secondly,
against internal sedition" — i. e., sedi-
tion within a State against its own
Government. It is sometimes careless-
ly conceded that the States surrendered
certain portions of this sovereignty for
the sake of protecting other portions
of it. This is not only a superficial and
illogical, but it is a perverted view of
the subject, which has, we have no
doubt, often been taken by men who,
on closer reflection, would readily per-
cieve the absurdity of the idea. It is
true that the Federal Government has
received certain powers from the States,
but it received these powers, not as
surrendered, but as "delegated pow-
ers." We shall look in vain through
the Constitution to find where the States
surrendered any of their sovereign pow-
ers to the Federal Government. Madi-
son, as we have often shown in the
pages of The Old Guard, points out
the distinction, when he say a : " A de-
tegated is not a surrendered power."
The States simply " granted" the Fede-
ral Government the right of exercising
certain of their sovereign attributes,
jointly, for the " general welfare." All
the powers delegated to the Federal Go-
vernment are carefully restricted or li-
mited, and therefore divested of every
attribute of sovereignty Without usur-
pation, or, if you please, without rebel-
ling against the authors of its exist-

ence, the Federal Government can claim
no higher functions than that of an
agent of the joint sovereignty of " the
several States."

We are aware that there will be
plenty of absurd and senseless raving
against this idea ; but who will at-
tempt to refute it? It is a quality of
the times to dogmatize, to brow-beat,
to threaten, and to lie ; but all these
are the weapons of ignorance, impos-
ture, and villainy. They are the im-
plements of men who know they are in
the wrong — not of the deceived, but of
deceivers. The pages of The Old
Guard are open to the arguments of any
gentleman of ability who will attempt
to refute the doctrines above laid down;
or the editor will be his humble ser-
vant to discuss these fundamental prin-
ciples of our Government, orally, before
the people. If we loved our country
less — if we were less attached to the
grand principles of government estab-
lished by our Revolutionary fathers — -
we would abandon the field here, and
no longer seek debate with a genera-
tion of traitors, whom we have a right
to despise. The blood that flows in our
veins has throbbed in life in this coun-
try ever since 1630. This is our " Fa-
therland." By every memory and every
hope dear to the human breast, we are
bound to our country and to its insti-
tutions ; and it is this feeling alone
that prompts us to further stem the
flood of delusion, ignorance, and des-
potism which sets like a tide of blood
over the land.

Now, to return to our argument ; we
are quite certain that the only reply
which will be made to our statement of
the federative principles of our gov-
ernment is, that they justify secession ;
but this is neither an answer nor an

1865.]

RIGHT TO WITHDRAW FROM THE UNION?

argument — it is only an appeal to pre-
judice. The question for honorable
men to decide, is not whether the ar-
gument justifies secession, but is it
true? That is the first thing to be set-
tled— is it true ? And suppose it is
true, what then? Shall we lie about it,
and swear that the argument is not
true, because we are afraid it will jus-
tify secession ? To help the faint-
hearted a little, let us ask, which State
would have joined the Union had it sup-
posed that, under no circumstances, of
whatever oppression and wrong, could it
ever resume its sovereign powers ? Does
any man believe that a single State
would have agreed to the compact with
such an understanding of its nature ?
If he does, he is, to say the least, de-
plorably ignorant of the history of the
FederalGovernment. Some of the States
expressly reserved this right, in terms,
in the act adopting the Constitution ;
but is not the right implied by the prin-
ciples of common law, in the very na-
ture of the compact itself? To say
otherwise is to contend that the States
did not " delegate" certain of their pow-
ers at all, but that they surrendered all
into the hands of the federal govern-
ment, establishing that as an unlimited
monarchical power over them. This is
the dilemma into which those are push-
ed who fly with such alarm from the
idea that there may be circumstances
which would justify a State in with-
drawing. Jefferson says :

"The several States comprising the United
States of America, are not united on the prin-
ciples of unlimited submission to tkeir general
government, but by compact, under the style
and title of a Constitution for the United
States, and of amendments thereto, they
constitute a general government for special
purposes, delegated to that government cer-
tain deiinito powers, reserving each Slate to

itself the residuary mass of right to their own
self-government. "

If the States are " not united on the
principles of unlimited submission," their
right under certain circumstances to
withdraw from the Union, follows as a
thing of course. On this declaration
of federative principles, Mr. Jefferson
was twice elected President. And that
such were the doctrines of the framers
of the Constitution, and of the States
which adopted it, was, we think, clear-
ly proved in our leading article of The
Old Guard for last month.

On this subject the " Father of the
Constitution" says :

"A compact between independent sove-
reigns, founded on acts of legislative autho-
rity, can pretend to no higher validity than
a league or treaty between the parties. It is
an established doctrine on the subject of
treaties, that all the articles are mutually con-
ditions of each other ; that a breach of any
one article is a breach of the whole treaty ;
and that a breach committed by either of the
parties absolves the others, and authorizes
them, if they please, to pronounce the com-
pact violated and void."

This covers the whole ground, and
leaves not a spot to stand a doubt
upon in relation to the opinions of the
framers of the Constitution on this
subject. Not a State had any idea
that it was binding itself hand and
foot in a compact which would hold it
fast after other parties to it had proved
recreant. Such an idea is at war not
only with the principles of the com-
mon law, but with common sense. It
is the nature of a compact that when
it is broken on one part, it is broken
on all. We cannot violate our part of
a bargain, and still hold the other par-
ty to the terms. The moment that we
break the agreement sets him free From
his part of the compact. The pnnci-

HAVE STATES, &C,

[Feb.,

pie holds good in compacts, or bar-
gains, between sovereign States, in all
respects, as between individuals. The
States, as individual sovereignties, are
parties to the compact. The validity
of the compact depends upon the faith-
ful observance of all the terms, by all
the parties forming it. One half of the
States cannot hold the other half to a
violated compact ; nor can a majority
justly hold the minority to a violated
compact. If the rights of but a single
State, as guaranteed by the instrument
of compact, are violated by all the rest,
that single State is clearly absolved
from all its obligations, under the bro-
ken instrument. This principle under-
lies the whole system of civilization,
and there is no way of rejecting it
without bringing the whole edifice of
laws and institutions to the ground.
Daniel Webster affirms and applies the
great principle in the following lan-
guage :

" If the Constitution be not observed in all
its parts, the whole of it ceases to be bind-
ing, * * * * I have not hesitated
to say, and I repeat, that if the northern
States refuse wilfully and deliberately to car-
ry into effect that part of the Constitution
which respects the restoration of fugitive
slaves, and Congress provide no remedy, the
South would no Jonger be bound to observe
the compact. A bargain cannot be broken
on one side, and still be binding on the other
side."

We quote this passage from Mr.
Webster merely for the principle of law
which it defines, without intending to
raise the question of what States have
violated the Federal compact. Our pur-
pose in this article is only to discuss
the question whether, under any circum-
stances, States have a right to withdraw
from the Union?* The following re-

* If the reader wishes to understand the extent to
which the Constitution has been violated by the
North he is referred to the article entitled " .Nulhfiers
of the North,'' beginning on page 121 of vol. 2nd of
The Old Guard.

marks of Mr. Madison, in the Constitu
tional Convention, evidently express
the mind of that body, from the fact
that they were not disputed by any
member of the Convention :

" It has been alleged that the confedera-
tion, having been formed by unanimous con-
sent, could be dissolved by unanimous con-
sent only. If we consider the Federal Union
as analagous to the fundamental compact by
which individuals compose one society, and
which must, in its theoretic origin at least,
have been the act of the component mem-
bers, it cannot be said that no dissolution of
the compact can be effected without unani-
mous consent. A breach of the fundamental
principles of the compact by a part of the so-
ciety, would certainly absolve the other part
from their obligation to it. If the breach of
any article by any of the parties does not set
the others at liberty, it is because the con-
trary is implied in the compact itself, and
particularly by that law of it which gives an
indefinite authority to the majority to bind
the whole in all cases. 1 his latter circum-
stance shows that we are not to consider the Fe-
deral Union as analagous to the social compaci
of individuals — for if it were, a majority would
have the right to bind the rest, and even to
form a Constitution for the whole. If we
consider the Federal Union as analagous, not
to the social compacts among individual
men, but to the Conventions amongst indivi-
dual States, what is the doctrine resulting
from these Conventions? Clearly that a
breach of any one article, by any one party,
leaves all the other parties at liberty to consi-
der the whole Convention as dissolved."

Our fathers, who sat in that Conven-
tion, had they the gift of looking into
the future, would have been amazed at
the mass of stupidity floating in our
time upon this subject. What would
they say — what would the Father of
the Constitution say — to hear these
fiery and super-impudent dolts ; the
ministers, the contractors, dry-goods
clerks, barbers, and strong-minded wo-
men, lay down the law of compacts, by
which sovereign States are bound, like

1865.]

A RIGHT TO WITHDRAW FROM THR UNION?

Prometheus with the vultures gnaw-
ing his liver, without the power of as-
serting their "inalienable rights?11

At the October Term of the Circuit
Court of the U. S., 1851, Judge Nelson,
in referring to State laws, in opposi-
tion to the Fugitive Slave clause of
the Constitution, said:

"I have already said the provision in ques-
tion is a material part of the Constitution —
the fundamental law of the Union, framed
by our fathers, and under which we live — so
material and important, that any one conver-
sant with the history of that instrument
knows that without it the Union would ne-
ver have been formed. Let any one of the
northern States, therefore, annul, or utterly
disregard it, setting the fundamental law in
this respect at defiance, and be successful in
maintaining such disregard and abandon-
ment of duty, and a disruption of the Union
is already accomplished. One or more of
the members of the confederacy cannot an-
nul a material part of the compact which
they have entered into with the other States,
and at the same time claim an observance of
the compact by others. There can be no
such obligation on those of others, legal or
moral. It requires but common sense and
common honesty to settle this. That other
State, or those other States, interested in the
rejected and repudiated part, would have a
right to regard the compact as at an end, and
to withdraw from a confederacy of faithless
associates. There are two sides to the com-
pact. Both must be observed, or neither.
These principles are fundamental. They lie
at the foundation of alt contracts."

Such is the limit of this article, that
we are embarrassed to know what to
select from the great mass of evidence
at our command, in proof of the pro-
position that circumstances may a-
rise to justify States in declaring their
connection with the Union at an end,
and in withdrawing from a broken
compact. One of the most eminent of
the early jurists of our country, Judge
Rawle, in his Commentaries on the Fe-
deral Constitution, says :

"It depends on the State itself to rda'm or
abolish the principle of representation, be-
cause it depends on the State itself whether it
will continue a member of the Union. To deny
this right would be inconsistent with the
principle on which all our political systems
are founded ; which is, that in all cases the
people have a right to determine how they
will be governed. * * * * States,
then, may wholly withdraw from the Union, but
while the? continue in the Union they must
retain the character of representative repub-
lics."

Judge Rawle was a Pennsylvanian,
and his standing in the country at that
day, may be seen by the fact that
Washington strongly urged him to ac-
cept a place in his cabinet as Attorney-
General of the United States. We could
quote language to the same effect from
Gouverneur Morris. President John
Adams, in effect, asserted the same
when he refused the Rev. Mr. Coffin a
subscription to build a college in Ten-
nessee, on the ground that Tennessee
would soon be a foreign State to New
England. Massachusetts was, at that
time, contemplating withdrawing from
the Union. In the November number
of this Journal we gave documentary
proof that the New England States
were threatening to secede from the
Union all the way along from 1790
to 1812. Josiah Quincy declared
that if the bill to purchase Louisiana
passed Congress it would give the New
England States the right to secede.
His language was :

"If this bill passes, it is my deliberate
opinion that it is virtually a dissolution of
the Union ; that it will free the States from
their obligation ; and that, as it will be the
right of all, so it will be the duty of some, to
prepare for sepx-ilion-"

In the Republican Convention that
nominated Fremont, Judge Spaulding
spoke, amidst loud applause, ol events
in which " he was for dissolution, and

HAVE STATES, &C.

Feb,

he cared not how quick it came." The
leaders of the party that procured the
nomination of Mr. Lincoln at Chicago
have asserted not only the right, but
the duty, of the secession of the non-
slaveholding States as a vital article
of their creed. They have, in days
passed, flooded Congress with petitions
for " dissolution." The brazen-throated
loyal leaguers who now make such a
racket and din about the " sin of seces-
sion" are, it would seem, ignorant, not
only of the history of their country,
but of the history of their own party.
De Tocqueville, in his celebrated work
on the American system of government,
makes this remark :

" The Union was formed by the voluntary
agreement of the States, and in uniting to-
gether they have not forfeited their nation-
ality, nor have they been reduced to the con-
dition of one and the same people. If one
of the States chose to withdraw its name
from the contract, it would be difficult to dis-
approve its right of doing so."

It is not easy to imagine an intelli-
gent foreigner, who studies the Ame-
rican system in the history of its foun-
dation, and in the record of its leading
statesmen, as coming to any other con-
clusion. In President Jackson's im-
mortal message against nullification,
he admits that the States possess "the
ii idefeasable right of resisting acts which
are plainly unconstitutional, and too op~
pressive to be endured." This sentence
carries with it the right, as a last re-
sort for State protection, of withdraw-
ing from the Union ; though he would
seem, erroneously as we think, to place
this action in the right of revolution.
Is not the right rather in the nature of
the compact itself? The real revolu-
tionists are the States which are guilty
of a violation of the Constitution, by
waging a crusade against the guaran-

teed rights of other States. Such States
would be the revolutionists. Their po-
sition is that of violators or breakers
of the compact of fraternity. They are
revolutionists, while the others may be
simply striving to protect themselves
from a revolutionary breach of the
compact, whether by withdrawal from
the company of the compact-breakers,
or by other means of protection and
self-defense. Withdrawal from the
Union does not, therefore, necessarily
imply revolution or rebellion ; it may
be only an act of self-defense, or of re-
sistance to revolution. Is the man who
protects his own house, as best he can,
from the designs of the incendiary, to
be classed as a revolutionist? Did the
people of New England, who threaten-
ed to withdraw from the Union in 1790,
in 1794, in 1801, in 1811, in 1814, and
three several times since, consider
themselves as "rebels?" Did the good
people of Massachusetts, of Vermont,
of Pennsylvania, of Ohio, and of other
States, who petitioned Congress for a
" dissolution of the Union," admit them-
selves to be "rebels?" Did John Ad:
ams, Josiah King, and John Quincj
Adams, when they asserted the right
of New England to withdraw from the
Union, contemplate themselves in the
light of " rebels?" Did the Eepublican
Convention which nominated Mr. Fre-
mont, and which applauded to the echo
a loud threat to dissolve the Union, re-
gard itself as an assembly of "rebels?"
Did the collected wisdom and patriot-
ism of New England, which met at
Hartford in 1814, for the purpose of
taking the New England States out of
the Union, allow themselves to be '■ re-
bels V* Tell us, 0 ye brawlers ! ye
loud-tongued and empty-headed loyal
leaguers, who make both day and night

1865.]

A RIGHT TO WITHDRAW FROM THE UNION ?

hideous with your implacable yells
against " rebellion," were all these an-
cient friends of yours, these solid men
of other days, of whom you are but the
spawn and scum — were they " rebels P*
In the Tribune of Feb. 23d, 1861, Mr.
Greeley made the following plain de-
claration of the right of States to with-
draw from the Union :

"We have repeatedly said, and we once
more insist, that the great principle embo-
died by Jefferson in the Declaration of Amer-
ican Independence, that governments derive
their just power from the consent of the gov-
erned, is sound and just ; and that if the
slave Statis, the cotton States, or the Gulf
States only, choose to form an independent
nation, they have a clear moral right to do
so. We have never said, nor intimated, that
this is a right to be claimed in a freak or a
pet, and exercised with the levity of a beau
choosing his partner for a dance. We do not
believe — we have never maintained — that a
State might break out of the Union, like a
bull from a pasture — that one State, or ten
States, might take themselves off in a huff —
much less make a feint of going, in order to
be bribed to stay ; but we have said, and still
maintain, that, provided the cotton States
have fully and definitely made up their minds
to go by themselves, there is no need of light-
ing about it ; for they have only to exercise
reasonable patience, and they will be let off
in peace and good will. Whenever it shall
be clear that the great body of the southern
people have become conclusively alienated
from the Union, and anxious to escape from
it, we will do our best to forward their views."

The same eminent leader of the Re-
publican party — is he not indeed the
father of it ? — in the Tribune of Dec.
11, 1860, said:

" We have repeatedly asked those who dis-
sent from our view of this matter, to tell us
frankly whether they do or do not assent to
Mr. Jefferson's statement in the Declaration
of Independence, that governments 'derive
their }UHt powers from the consent of the gov.
erned, and that whenever any form of gov-
ernment becomes destructive of these ends,

it is the right of the people to alter or abol-
ish it, and to institute a new government,'
&c, &c. We do heartily accept this doctrine,
believing it intrinsically sound, beneficent,
and one that, universally accepted, is calcu-
lata 1 to prevent the shedding of seas of hu-
man blood. And if it justified the secession
from the British empire of three millions of
colonists in 1776, we do not see why it wou d
not justify the secession of five millions of
Southerners from the Federal Union in 1881.
If we are mistaken on this point, why does
not some one attempt to show wherein and
why? For our own part, while we deny the
right of slaveholders to hold slaves against
the will of the latter, we cannot see how
twenty millions of people can rightfully hold
ten, or even five millions in a detested union
with them by military force."

There is a vast deal more of equally
logical and equally just and truthful
writing which might be quoted from
the editorials of Mr. Greeley. As he
challenged others to answer his rea-
soning, so we now challenge him to an-
swer himself. The truth is, that his
former position on this question was
sound and impregnable. Nobody ever
attempted to answer him ; none but a
fool ever will attempt it. The right of
a State to withdraw from the Union
for cause, or after the compact is bro-
ken by the other parties to it, is logi-
cally as plain as the right of a State to
enter into the Union in the first place.
It becomes a party to the Union with
the understanding that the other par-
ties to it will, in good faith, keep all
the conditions of the compact. On no
other terms did it bind itself to remain
a member of the Union. The compact
being broken by the other parties, re-
leases it from its share of the bargain.
But there is a thing which States have
no right to do. They have no right to
break the solemn compact by which
each State pledged itself to respecl the
sovereignty, rignts, and institutions o,

HAVE STATES, &C.

[Feb.,

all the other States who are members
of the Union. This breaking of the
compact is the real revolution, or the
real "rebellion." We have already
said that it is no part of the purpose
of this article to point out what States
may have broken the compact. It is
not necessary, for our present object,
to say that any States have. We are
dealing" only with this senseless asser-
tion— which has become the foundation
of an order of things never contem-
plated by the founders of the Union —
that, " under no circumstances can a
State withdraw from the Union.11 Such
an assertion we hold to be not only
senseless, but monstrous. Such a prin-
ciple carried out in all the relations of
life, would put a stop to all the move_
ments of civilization. Who would en.
ter into compacts, partnerships, or bar-
gains of any kind, if by so doing they
bound themselves, beyond the reach of
reparation or retreat, to adhere to con.
tracts after they were broken by the
other parties to them ? It is certain
that if such were the character of the
compact of the Union, not one State
would ever have become a party to it.
The effort to change the character of
the compact into an involuntary Union,
is revolutionary, and should be abhor-
red by every State alike ; for the exist-
ence of every State is alike involved in
the issue. Let us look at the matter
through an illustration that we can
easily appreciate. Several of the States
of this Union have, by an act of their
sovereign right, abolished " slavery" —
suppose the States which, by the exer-
cise of the same sovereign will, have
not abolished, should combine together
for the purpose of forcing the States
which have abolished the Institution

to re-establish it again ? And suppose
that the " slave"-holding States should
obtain a majority to enforce the de-
cree that every State in the Union
should establish negro " slavery V
Would not this be a violation of the
compact? Would not the minority
have a clear right to withdraw trom
the company of the despotic, compact-
breaking, and revolutionary majority ?
Which northern State would remain an
hour in such a " Union V1 It would be
a Union no longer. The State that
should submit to such a decree would
deserve to be despised by everybody,
and by all nations. Does not this show
us the absurdity, the downright fool-
ishness, of the current jargon which as-
serts that, under no circumstances
whatever, can a State withdraw from
the company of its associates in the
Union ! We see that the right to with-
draw for cause is a necessary condi-
tion of the compact. We also see that
this right has always been held and af-
firmed by statesmen and the States oi
the North. The contrary opinion is not
yet four years old with those who are
now asserting it with lungs of brass.
The very men who are now filling the
air with hypocritical yells for the Union,
are the same who until recently hissed
and sneered at the real friends of the
Union, as " Union-savers." It was a
term of reproach in the mouths that
now ring the changes in its praise ;
but the thing they clamor for is not the
Union. The Union that our fathers
made they hate, and there is no lan-
guage of abuse too strong for them to
apply to those who still fondly cling to
the glorious old Union that came out of
the grand struggle of 1176.

1865.]

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

THE PEER 4ND THE PRINTER.*
A NOVEL.

BY THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH.

CHAPTER III.,

Wherein I become almost a Spanish Scholar, but lose both my Teachers.

The next day Paul Bagby, having
heard of my adventure, called at the
printing-house. Learning that I was
about to visit the patient, he volunteer-
ed to accompany me, saying that in his
two years' sketching tour on the Penin-
sula he had made himself a tolerable
master of the Castilian. We found the
Spaniard lying upon a couch, reading,
while his little daughter sat near. He
seemed glad to see me, and when I
presented the artist, received him with
ail the courtesy that his constrained
position would allow him to show.

negyric upon Louis XIV., because the
king sent forty arm-chairs to the Aca-
demy," said the Spaniard.

"Exactly," replied Paul, laughing,
11 1 might have bought as many as forty
sofas with the proceeds of Lord Landys'
direct patronage, throwing aside the
sitters he has sent me ; consequently,
common gratitude requires that I should
admire him as much as D'Alembert did
Louis XIV."

" He is fond of pictures then. Has
he many ?"

" Yes, and some very fine ones. His

They entered into conversation in Spa- gallery contains a picture from every

nish, at my instance, and while they
were thus engaged, I watched the
child, and noted the play of her fea-
tures as she listened. Occasionally I

modern artist of note, with some fine
specimens of the masters. By the by,
he has a picture painted by a foreign
artist, the portrait of a monk, which,

joined in the conversation, Espinel ap- odd as it may seem, bears a striking
pealing to me at times in French, resemblance to you, senior."

Their conversation, I found by this, had
turned upon the Earl of Landys, who
seemed to be a subject of deep interest
to the Spaniard. The latter at length
said to me in French :

" Monsieur Bagby seems to admire
milord Landees very much."

" My faith !" said Paul, in the same

" Indeed I by one of the old mas-
ters ?"

" No ; modern, undoubtedly."
The surgeon now entered the room,
and told us that the senior would not
be able to go about for some days, as
the internal injuries were severe. Bag-
by translated this to the patient, who

language, "the admiration is merely merely replied that it was unfortunate,

gratitude for patronage, of which I
have received a deal through the Lan-
dys' interest."

" D'Alembert pronounced quite a pa-

as he desired to visit London at an ear-
ly date. Bagby now rose to leave, and
I, promising to return in a few minutes,
accompanied him down stairs.

[•Entered accord n • to A-'t. of Congre s, m t lie year ISU4, by Vaa Bvrle, Uoifon & Co., iii the Clerk's
Ouice o: Lac iJou.Cv vJouiL ot t.io UiUbWU ooaLerf lor t.<e Soullloru District oi isie»v York.]

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

Feb.,

" What do you think of the couple ?"
I asked, when we were fairly out of
the room.

" I think the child is the most beau-
tiful creature of her age I ever saw,"
was the answer, " and I intend to paint
her portrait. As for her father, he is
no father at all, I fancy."

" How do you come to that conclu-
sion ?"

" A child always bears some resem-
blance to each parent. It may be only
such as those acquainted with those
matters can point out ; but it is always
there. Sometimes the upper part of
the head is that of the father, and the
lower that of the mother, or vice versa.
Then the face may be that of one pa-
rent, when the back part of the head
will have the configuration peculiar to
that of the other, or the reverse. Again,
there may be a mingling of the facial
points. I have been studying the two
with the eye of a naturalist, and the
analytical habit of an artist, and the
girl's face, head, and physical confor-
mation, are totally unlike his, except
in points that might be accidentally si-
milar. Besides, he is a monk, or has
been until recently."

" How do you make that out ?"

" His head bears the mark of the ton-
sure. The hair has been only suffered
to grow a short while."

" It may have been shaved through
illness."

"Not a bit of it. In that case the
shaving would not have been so regu-
lar, and scarcely on the top of the head.
Then you must remember, that although
she called him ' father,' and he address-
ed her as ' daughter,' he spoke of her
to me all through as ' this child,' ' this
dear little girl,' and so on."

" But," said I, " he spoke of her to

me as ' the child he was bound to pro-
tect.' "

" Precisely. It is not a parental ob-
ligation, you see, on which a parent,
taking it as a matter of course, would
not insist. But you had better return
to your Spaniard. I'll see you again,
and we'll talk the matter over farther.
Call on me to-morrow before you come
here, and I will show you how far I
have gone in the way of painting her."
" Do you expect her to sit, then ?"
" Sit ? No. A face so remarkable
is easily painted from memory. 1 won't
get its character and expression out of
my mind for a twelvemonth."

He left, and I returned to Espinel.
The latter was reading when I came
in, but put the book down.

" Do not let me interrupt you," said
I. " If you are interested, go on ; but
first tell me if I can order anything
new for yon of the landlord."

" No ; I am quite comfortable, and
if you will, would prefer to talk."

He then asked me a great many
questions about the town and its vici-
nity, more particularly about the Lan-
dys family, all of which I answered as
well as I could. At length he said :

" How long since you commenced to
study French ?"

11 About a year since."
" Are there many French people in
this town ?"

" Only one that I know — the gentle-
man who gave me lessons — M. de
Lille."

" You must have great aptitude for
acquiring languages Your accent is
defective in part, but wonderfully good
to have been acquired during a year.
How would you like to study Spanish?"
" Very much."
" Kepeat this ;" and he uttered a few

1865.]

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

words in Castilian.

I obeyed.

" Very good ; very good, indeed,"
said he, while the little girl clapped her
hands in delisrht. " You have caught
the accent perfectly. You would find
the Spanish quite easy to master. Once
learn the alphabetical sounds, and all
after that is an effort of memory. I
know most European languages, but
not English. I have been thinking,
as 1 have nothing better to do while
fastened here, that I would like to
change lessons with you. I could get
along fastly, for I am familiar with the
Low Dutch, which is nearly identical
with the Low Saxon, one of the parents
of the English tongue. You shall teach
me English, and I will return it with
Spanish."

I acceded to the proposition, and the
lessons began.

We continued our studies all the
time the Spaniard remained in Putten-
ham. In a little time I had mastered
the sounds of the Spanish language,
and a good many phrases, as well as
the forms of its verbs. I was less for-
tunate as a teacher than pupil. Espi-
nel found it very difficult to get over
some of our peculiar sounds, and our
exceptional orthography became a great
stumbling-block. Fortunately there
was in our printing-room a Spanish
grammar and dictionary, kept to de-
termine the proper spelling of Spanish
words, when such had to be used in the
Chronicle, and these books were of
great assistance.

It was nearly four weeks before Se-
nor Espincl was able to rise and walk
about the room. The shock had been
a severe one to a man over fifty-six —
for such he told mo was his age — and
his recovery was slow. So earnestly

did I labor during this time that I had
acquired quite a smattering of Casti-
lian, and managed not only to trans-
late rapidly with the aid of the dic-
tionary, but to keep up a brisk conver-
sation on ordinary subjects. I found
myself, however, better able to con-
verse with the child than the old man.
Her prattle, simple as it was, I readily
understood, and my interest in her was
so deep, that it became my greatest
delight to talk with her. Zara, for
such was her name, had by this time
grown quite attached to me, and would
come and sit on my knee, and lay her
head on my shoulder, while I told her
some nursery ballad, or fairy story, in
my imperfect Spanish ; or would prattle
to me in a curious mixture of her own
language with English, which last
tongue she acquired faster than Espi-
nel. The Senor Jose, meanwhile, with
a table wheeled up to where he sat,
worked hard in translating some Ens:-
lish book, and occasionally interrupted
Zara and me to ask me the proper form
of some verb, or an explanation of a
difficult idiom. How tenderly I loved
that pure and affectionate child ! How
delighted I was with her growing at-
tachment to me !

At length the Senor Espinel was
able to walk without serious difficulty,
and managed to call on Mr. Gutten-
berg, and thank him for permittiugmy
attendance. My protector received
him civilly enough, but did not feel
prepossessed in his favor. This arose
from the fact that Paul Bagby, then in
London, had intimated, previously to
his departure, that Espincl was, or had
been a monk. With all his many good
qualities, John Guttenberg had a strong
sectarian prejudice.

I left the Espincls one night about

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

[Feb.,

ten o'clock, having shaken bands with
Don Jose, and kissed little Zara, who
always remained up from rest until I
left. She .said, as we parted :

" Good night, brother Ambrosio.
Some day Zara grow great big ; then
she spick English much gooder as
now."

I smoothed her hair with my hand,
arid turned to go. As I left the land-
lord came with a letter which had ar-
rived by the evening mail, directed to
the Senor Jose Espinel. I noticed that
it had the London mark.

The next day, at noon, I went to see
my friends as usual, and was told that
the Spaniard and his daughter had ta-
ken places the night before in the mail-
coach for London, and had departed at
daybreak.

" He left this for you," said the land-
lord.

I tore open the letter. It was in
French, and read in English thus :

" My dear young friend — A letter, received
as you left us last night, called me direct to
London, without an opportunity to bid you
more than this farewell, or to express, as I
oufht, my sense of \our kindness. Zara
sends her love to you, and the enclosed sou-
venir. May God have you in his holy keep-
ing.

•'Jose Espinel."

Enclosed in the letter was a packet,
containing a lock of hair, which I knew
at once to be Zara's.

CHAPTER IV.,

Which details singular events, including a fresh
Mystery, and introduces the Bight Honorable
the Earl of Landys.

About two months after Zara and
her father had left the town, Tom
Brown, who had been over to the shop
for copy, told me that a package ad-
dressed to me had arrived by the car-

rier from London. For I must men-
tion that our printing-house was a back
building, in the rear of a piece of
ground on which the book-shop and
dwelling-house was built, and faced on
a ten foot alley behind. I asked Tom
what the package was like, and why
he did not bring it with him.

" It is thin," answered he, " and
looks like a big atlas, wrapped up in
brown papor. I'd have brought it in,
Brosy, my boy, and charged you a pint
of beer for carrying it, only they
wouldn't let me. The Governor," mean-
ing thereby his master, " said you were
to come in the shop shortly, as he
wanted to see you. He is in a terri-
ble state of excitement, I can tell you,
about the skeleton they picked up this
morning, and has got the traps they
dug out with it."

" I'll go as soon as I fill my stick,"
said I. " What skeleton, and where
did they find it ?"

"You know Sharp's old rookery, in
the Ram's Horn ?"

The Ram's Horn was the cant name
given to a crooked lane in the outskirts
of the town, inhabited by the poorest
class of people.

"Yes," I replied, "it tumbled down
during the last storm."

"Exactty; very much tumbled; went
all to crash. Sharp sold it a little
while since to Bingham, who also
bo light the three next to it, and is about
to build his new brew-house there.
They've been clearing out ruins and
digging foundations all last week.
This morning, right in t\ie center of
what used to be the cellar of Sharp's
house, they came across a skeleton, in
some rotten clothes. Old Dr. Craig
says that the bones belonged to a wo-
man. The gold, sleeve-buttons of the

1865.1

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

chemise were there, and a gold pin,
with a sky-blue stone in it, and some
queer-shaped letters on the back ; the
woman's name, I suppose."

" What was the name V

« Queer— very— V. M. Taw. Mrs.
Taw must have been made away with,
aud buried there ; at least that is
everybody's say-so. They found a dag-
ger there, the rummiest kind of a knife,
with a blade as crooked as a dog's
hind-leg, and a carved wooden handle,
partly rotten. The Governor heard of
it, and he bought all the things. I
think he means to keep 'em in the shop
to draw custom. Old Sharp tried to
get them for the Museum, but the Go-
vernor was too quick for him. He is
in a terrible pother about something."

" Who ? Sharp ?"

" No ; our old man. He and the
mistress are holding a grand confabu-
lation. I heard 'em mention your
name as I went in."

I finished my task, washed my hands,
put off my apron, and went to the
house. Mary Guttenberg, a girl of
fourteen, just turning into womanhood,
was sewing in the back part of the
shop. Her father and mother were in-
side of the counter. Before them were
various articles, including the things
Tom had spoken of. As I came for-
ward, Mrs. Guttenberg pointed to the
larger package. I undid the fasten-
ings, and, after removing the wrapper,
and two stout bits of binder's bands,
placed on either side to preserve it from
injury, I found a portrait, one-fourth
size, of Zara Espinel. From the P. B.
in the left-hand corner, I knew it to be
the work of Paul Bagby. As I opened
it I discovered a letter, addressed to
me. When I had admired the portrait
suiliciently, I opened th -\ letter. It was

from Paul, dated at London, and these
were the contents :

"My dear little type-slicker:

«• Herewith you have a copy of my portrait
of little Zara, whose untimely fate in being
whisked away by a grim, grey-bearded ogre,
you have so much lamented. I think that I
have not only caught the features, but the
whole spirit of her extraordinary face. I
should like your criticism on that point, for
you were so fond of her that her expression
must be firmly fixed on your mind.

" Apropos to Zara — who do you think I saw
in the Park yesterday ? No other than that
mysterious Don, the Senor Espinel. My
conjecture concerning him was right. Don
Jose is Fray Jose. He wore the suit of black,
with the cut and style of the ecclesiastic. He
was in a coach, with a coat of arms on the
panel, but it drove off and past before I could
make out more than a ducal coronet. I was
on foot — what right has a poor devil of an
artist to ride anything but Shank's mare ?
Our eyes met, and I bowed. He looked at
me superciliously, as much as to say, ' And
who are you, pray ? It was a cut. — cool as a
cucumber — unless I am very much mistaken.
There seemed to me to be a twitching about
the corners of his mouth, as though he en-
joyed my discomfiture. I felt annoyed, raid
have made up my mind to pick up a quarrel
w'th his reverence on the first opportunity.
Zara was not with him. I should like to
know where he has bestowed her. Would
not you ?

" I have a famous commission. I am to
make a series of paintings for a wealthy
Yankee — at least he came from New York,
and I presume he is an American. He wants
a set of pictures, without limit as to number,
of Engiisa life and scenery. He is a perfect
magnificio — as stately and proud as a baron
of old — and has lots of tin. His name is
Archbold.

" Give my compliments to the worthy pub-
lisher of that astounding print, the Patten-
ham Chronicle, and te>l the redavteur-en chef
that ministers tremble at the thunders he
hurls, and the world generally shakes at his
fulminations as usual. I have three pictures
ready for the exhibition of this year, ^here-
from I expoet great fame, unless the hanging
committee treat me unfairly, au I elevate my
offspring forty cubits Lugn. 1 nave known
vagabonds to do bUOil tilings. "

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

[Feb.,

The rest of the letter was rilled with
gossip. I put it down and turned to
view the picture again, which Mary
Guttenburg, who had laid down her
work for the purpose, now held in her
hand.

" How pretty she is !" exclaimed
Mary, and her father and mother echoed
her comment. The likeness was won-
derfully correct. The artist had caught
the expression of tenderness peculiar to
her face, the liquidity of her dark eyes>
and all the poetry of her clouds of dark
hair. He had brought to his task the
whole force of his genius, and every
resource of his art.

" What a sweet face !" continued
Mary.

" Beautiful, indeed !" said a voice be-
hind us.

We turned, and to our astonishment
stood the Karl of Landy's, who bowed
slightly and apologetically. But the
bend of his body was entirely wasted
on a part of the by-standers. Mr. John
Guttenberg was filled with all that
servile deference to a peer which marks
the true English tradesman. Had the
Right Honorable John, Earl of Landys,
ex-member of the Privy Council, con-
descended to have thrown a flip-flap
then and there — an outrageous impos-
sibility to suggest, I admit — my worthy
patron would have thought it in nowise
incompatible with the dignity of the
peerage. He would have gone into
ecstacies at the agility of the noble-
man, and would have avowed at once
that no one below the rank of a mar.
quis could have thrown such a flip-flap
as that. He felt honored by the ill-bred
peeping of the peer.

All the Guttenburgs bowed pro_
foundry ; and the head of the family,

with a smiling face and a rubbing of
the palms of the hands together — a
trick of his when desiring to be very
courteous — inquired in what way he
could have the honor of serving his
lordship.

" I called, Mr. Guttenburg," said the
Earl, " to say I would like to have the
last new novel, if it be in."

I said to myself —

"That is not true, my lord. You
would have it sent you by the carrier
from London ; or, had you wanted it
from ns, would have despatched a ser
vaut to obtain it. You have some
other motive for this extraordinary
visit."

However, though I thought all this
I said nothing aloud, of course, but
merely stood there in a respectful atti-
tude waiting to hear more.

Mr. Guttenburg took down the book
from the shelf, and did it up careiuliy
in white paper, offering to send it by
me, but the Earl said he would take
it himself, and threw down the subscrip-
tion-money.

" Can I have the honor to serve your
lordship in any other way ?" inquired
the zealous bookseller. '* Will your
lordship condescend to accept a copy
of this week's Chronicle? You will
find your lordship's recent arrival at
Landys Castle respectfully noticed un-
der the proper head. Will your lord-
ship deign to be seated ?"

But his lordship preferred to stand.

" Is that picture for sale ?" he asked.

u Of course, your lordship. That is,
it belongs to my adopted son there,
Ambrose, (pay your respects to his
lordship, sir,) and no doubt he would
be glad to dispose of it if your lord-
ship wished." And the bookseller con-

865.]

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER

torted his brows and looked at me as
much as to say — " " Why don't you of-
fer it to him at once V

But I was determined not to part with
the picture at all and said — ■

11 It is a gift from a friend, and there-
fore your lordship will see, cannot be
sold."

" It is a very fine picture. What
artist?"

" M r. Paul Bagby. my lord."

" Ah, yes ! I see his mark. I might
have known his style. I would like to
have a copy."

" This is a copy, my lord. He re-
tains the original."

"Is it a fancy sketch or from life ?"

" From life, my lord."

"Indeed! a very beautiful child then.
I am much struck with the face and
will write to Mr. Bagley on the sub-
ject. By the by, Mr. Guttenberg, what
is this story about a skeleton having
been found in the town ? They tell me
that you have some curious relics."

" Yes, your lordship," replied the
printer ; " and Mrs. Guttenberg and
myself — let me have the honor of pre-
senting Mr. Guttenberg to your lord-
ship's notice — were discussing the mat-
ter just before your lordship entered
the shop. It is very singular taken in
connection with the other circumstan-
ces ; very singular indeed, your lord-
ship."

" Is there a story, then?"

"Yes, your lordship. Pray be seat-
ed, my lord,. I am pained to see your
lordship standing. Mary, my dear, you
may resume your former seat back
there."

Mary retreated to the rear of the shop,
with a vexed expression on her coun-
tenance ; but she endeavored to listen
as well as the distance would permit.

" You see, your lordship, that my
wife and I are of the opinion that the
skeleton is connected with the history
of this boy. If your lordship will deign
to listen, you shall judge for yourself.
Don't go, Ambrose," continued he as I
made a motion to leave, " I intend to
give his lordship your real history
which you have never heard yourself.'

He then detailed the circumstances
I have before given to the readers of
the events of the night in which I came
into his charge, and displayed the jew-
elry and articles received with me,
dwelling on the fact that the pin or
brooch recently found matched the
bracelet before had, and bore an in-
scription similar to that on the inside
of the ring. I took up the pin as he
spoke, and there, deeply engraven on
the back :

V.M.-.TA/W

" And was the package the woman
gave you ever found ?" inquired Lord
Landys, when the printer had finished
his narration.

" Never, your lordship ?"

" Your adopted son does you credit,"
said the Earl. " 1 hear that he is a
young man of correct deportment and
very studious, as well as proficient in
two or three languages. If he desire
it, he can have the use of my library
occasionally. I will speak to Mr. Os-
born, my steward, to that effect on my
return to the castle-"

I bowed my acknowledgment of the
favor, and Mr. Guttenberg rubbed his
hands and bobbed his head with great
assiduity.

"And this portrait, you say Mr. —
Mr.—"

" Fecit, my lord." suggested Mrs.
Guttenberg.

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

[Feb.,

" Ah, yes ! thank you. This por-
trait, you say, Mr. Fecit, is from life.
Did I hear you mention the name of
the party V}

" Her name is Zara, my lord. She is
the daughter of a Spaniard who was in
this town some few months back, and
who met with an accident which de~
layed him for several weeks."

" Ah, yes 1 I remember. You res-
cued the child, I believe. I think I
read some account of it either in, or
copied from the Chronicle. I believe
also," and here the nobleman fixed his
eyes full on mine, "that this same
Spaniard did me the honor to inquire
concerning me."

How did he know that? I had nev'
er mentioned it to any one. I felt a
a little embarrassed, having no idea,
how far the queries might be pushed ;
but I answered :

" He did make some inquires con-
cerning matters of interest in the
neighborhood, among the rest about
your lordship's place and asked ques"
tions about your lordship's family ; but
those were such as strangers are apt
to put."

" May I ask who he was and what
he was ?"

" Senor Jose Espinel, my lord, I do
not know his profession, ii he had any;
that is not beyond doubt "

" You conjecture then ?"

"Another does. It has been sug-
gested to me that he was a monk or
something of that sort."

" Was the child his daughter ?"

" I cannot say, my lord."

" Will you do me the favor to des-
cribe the man ?"

" I complied as accurately as I was
able, for though I felt the querist was
endeavoring to get from me all the in-

formation he could, there was no rea-
son why I should withhold what he
wanted, and I was anxious to discover
the cause of his manifest interest, and
thought that full aeplies might lead to
a probsble conjecture on my part. The
Earl mused a moment and then said :

" Did you notice anything peculiar
in iris person or manner ?" .

This was said carelessly, but at the
lattea part of the sentence his voice, as
I thought trembled a little. I watched
him, therefore, curiously as I replied :

"Nothing, my lord, in his manner,
more than the profusion of gesture
common to most foreigners; and noth-
ing on his person except a blood-mark
on his right wrist shaped like a cross. "

The Earl turned pale and shivered
as though he were cold. He dropped
the subject, and turning toward the
counter took up the rusted and crooked
dagger.

" I recognize this kind of weapon,"
said he. " This is a krees, a dagger
used by the Malays. I passed three
months on the island of Sumatra, with
my late cousin, years since, and be-
came well acquainted with their lan-
guage and costume. Indeed, one rea-
son why I have proffered Mr. Fecit
here the use of my library is that I
learn that he is fond of the study of
languages. Having some pretensions
to be a linguist, myself, I sympathise
with his pursuit."

" May I presume, said my patron
to asp your lordship a question ?"

" Do so."

" The tall dark man of whom I told
you, spoke to the lady in a strange
lenguage. I remembei one one word
which seemed to have a powerful effect.
It was, near as I can make out the
sound, diyum 1"

1865.]

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

"The word, I think, is Malay. It
sounds very near the word for silence
in that language."

"Fray, my lord," said I, "is this in-
scription in the Malay character?" and
I nointed to the letters on the brooch.

No ; these seem to be the rude at-
tempts of some foreigner to form Eng-
lish characte*rs."

After some general conversation,
Captain Berkely and another officer
came in the shop, and his lordship, af-
ter nodding to them, turned 'to leave
the shop, accompanied to the door by
the obsequious printer.

" Well, old fellah," said Berkely, when
the printer returned, " what was Lord
Toplofty doing here, eh ?"

" His lordship has been paying his
subscription to the library, captain.
Bless me, if his lordship hasn't left the
novel. His lordship has only gone a
i'ew steps. Bun after him, Ambrose,
and hand it to him, with my respectful
compliments."

CHAPTER V.,

In ichkh I meet with the Dowager Countess, and
see a strange portrait.

His- lordship kept his word as a noble-
man should. Mr. Osborne, the stew-
ard, called at the shop a few days af-
terward, and told me that I had per-
mission to read in the library of the
Castle at suitable hours. These suita-
ble hours 1 found, upon inquiry, were
from three to six in the afternoon, while
the family were there, and at any hours
1 might choose when the family were
away. The time first named interfered
with my duties in the composing-room,
but Mr. Guttenberg looked upon the
permission as an express command from
an authority not to be contemned, and
insisted that I should spend the time

set down for me among his lordship's
books. I was readily obedient, for I
thus had a field of study opened to me,
otherwise far beyond my reach. I found
the library to be a full one — the rarest
and finest editions of new and old works
occupying the shelves. It struck me
that neither the earl nor his visitors
ever troubled the library, unless per-
chance to lounge there, since none of
the works on the shelves bore traces
of frequent use. My mind did not
dwell on that fact. I thought only of
enjoying the advantages which 1 pos-
sessed. Among the volumes were
grammars and dictionaries of all the
European languages, and some of Asi-
atic tongues, besides a few hundred of
the writings of various foreign authors
in the original.. My fondness for ac-
quiring languages found new stimulus
and satisfaction, and I applied myself
earnestly to a pursuit which some
would have called a task.

Time passed for several months with
little incident worthy of notice. I heard
nothing of Zara or her father in the
meanwhile, and it was only at rare in-
tervals that they came to my memory.
I was lost in my rambles through a
new world. My ordinary life was sim-
ply monotonous, the same round of em-
ployment in the printing-room or circu-
lating library, and 1 made no acquaint-
ance beyond our circle of patrons, with
whom I was a favorite. The officers
of the regiment, through .Berkely, had
me in to assist when they gave ama-
teur dramatic performances, but this
was only an occasional amusement.
The servants at the castle got to know
me very well, and often amused me by
a bit of gossip concerning the family,
or an anecdote of one of iU membei*8.
To all these I listened, but made no

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

[Feb,

comments. I was naturally fond of
talking-, but I was naturally prudent;
This was soon discovered, and I be"
came gradually the depository of a deal
of secret history, useless enough, but
very amusing.

Among other facts, I speedily learn-
ed that the Dowager Countess of Lan-
dys, the mother of the late earl, was
nearly imbecile — so much so that she
was constantly attended to by her
maid, a woman who had been brought
up in the family ; and that the present
earl suffered her to retain the apart-
ments she had occupied during her
son's life -time. She was said to have
become insane on receiving the news
of her son's shipwreck ; but the violent
paroxysms ceased, leaving her mind in
a.state approaching idiocy, and giving
rise to a few harmless peculiarities.
Her cousin, Lady Caroline Bowlington,
was the only one who had the power
to interest her. During her short year-
ly visit the countess seemed to rally,
and her mind resumed its normal con-
dition. On the departure of her cousin
there was an apparent relapse.

1 also became well acquainted with
the steward, Mr. Osborne. He was
quite a line gentleman in manners, and
hud the entire confidence of his noble
master. Indeed it was remarked by
many that the consultations between
the two were conducted on a footing
of equality, and that the manner of the
steward to the peer was that of one
who felt secure of his position under
all circumstances. No one knew the
origin of this Mr. Osborne. He came
when the wearer of the title succeeded
to the earldom, having been summoned
from a distance. It was said that they
traveled together abroad, and had been
connected for many years. People

wondered how the servant maintained
such absolute control over the master,
for it was evident that the smooth,
smirking aud dapper gentleman lost a
portion of his deferential manner when
conversing with his patron, and paid
but little heed to the commands gene-
rally put as suggestions of the latter.
There was some secret in this which
none had been able to discover. I made
no effort to penetrate it. It was no af-
fair of mine.

Thus it passed until about a year af-
ter the rescue of Zara, when, as I sat
one day in my customary place in the
library, Lord Landys entered. I rose
to go, but he bade me remain and be
seated. He took up the book I had
been reading, the Dejing Navodu Cres-
kelio, of Francis Palacky, and put me
some questions as to its contents, pos-
sibly to ascertain what progress I had
made in the language in which it was
written. At length he said :

"Do you keep up communication
with your mysterious Spanish friend
still, Mr. Fecit V

" No, my lord," was my answer. " I
have not heard of him or of his dauorh-

ter, for a lomr while."

" I should have thought Mr Bagby
would have kept you advised of their
movements."

" No, my lord. He never mentions
them in the occasional letters I receive
from him, and I suppose is as ignorant
of their whereabouts as I."

" Hardly since he painted the little
Zara's portrait."

"That was a sketch from memory,
my lord. She has a striking face, apt
to fix its features in an artist's mind."

" You are to be free of your inden-
tures in a couple of years, I believe,"
continued the earl " Have you thought
on your future pursuits V

1865.]

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

" Not particularly, my lord. I shall
be a printer, of course."

44 You** information and quickness, "
said he, and I rose and bowed an ac-
knowledgment of the compliment, "lift
you out of that sphere of life. There
are few avenues for ambition in Eng-
land, without the command of money
and connexions, but abroad you might
rise rapidly."

" It is possible, my lord," I replied ;
"but it would require means there
too."

" Those might be found. I have in-
fluence with the present ministry, and
could procure you a creditable posi-
tion in India. The road there to repu-
tation and wealth is not yet choked
up. At least, youth, health, talent
and enterprise might remove all ob-
stacles."

" I thank your lordship, but I have
no desire to abandon the land where I
was horn."

11 Are you sure that you were born
here, at ail ?" was the quick reply.

I was startled at the question, and
the tone in which it was uttered. Be-
fore I could frame an answer, he con-
tinued—

"1 do not mean to wound your feel-
ings at all, but you know your own
his tor}*, and you might have been
born in France, you know. Think on
my proposition well before you reject
it. It gives you an opportunity which
you can never have upon the soil of
England. But perhaps you are deter-
mined to remain here in order to in-
vestigate the mystery of your birth."

" No," 1 replied, " I have thought of

that, but there seems to be no clue.

The loss ot the packet of papers by

Mr. Guttenberg is irreparable. I shall
not waste time in a fruitless pursuit.
When 1 come to grapple with the world

I will do it boldly, and I will allow no
vain object to weaken my efforts."

" You are ambitious, then," said the
earl, as he arose to leave the room
" Think well on India — wealth and dis-
tinction."

Without reflecting any more on his
offers, I resumed my reading, when he
had retired. How long I read it is
impossible to say, but I had certainly
gone through a great number of pages,
when I heard the rustling of silk, and,
looking up, beheld a very old woman
regarding me with apparent interest.

There wTas something startling in
the apparition.

The features, from the indications
presented, must at one time have been
handsome ; age had not entirely des-
troyed their pleasing regularity of out-
line ; but the soul which formerly ani-
mated them was clouded. In strange
contrast with the brilliant black eyes,
and the white hair which escaped in
masses from beneath the laced cap,
was the vacant expression about the
mouth, whose puckered lips, slightly
parted, disclosed the toothless gums.
The old woman looked at me intently,
and then muttered something* which I
could not distinguish. This was fol-
lowed by the words, plainly uttered :

" Her son ! it must be ; yes, look at
the ear."

I recovered from my astonishment
at length, and, rising*, bowed respect-
fully ; for I was sure that this was the
Dowager Countess of Landys. She
motioned me to resume my seat, and
when 1 hesitated, sank in a chair, and
waving her hand, said in a peremptory
way :

" Sit, sir 1"

I obeyed, and she still kept her eyes
fixed on me, the features lighting up.

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

[Feb.,

and the vacant expression quite gone.
I was meditating how to escape the
painful scrutiny, when she spoke
again, and this time in a voice of ten-
derness :

" I have not seen you for many days,
my son. Why do you mourn her loss
still ? She was not worthy of you. I
told you in the beginning how it would
be. Let her go.'7

I made no answer. What could I
have said ?

" He will come again/7 continued the
Countess, now apparently talking to
herself. " I know it. He will come
again. What the living promised the
dead would do, were the body a hun-
dred fathoms beneath the sea. The
dead has never come, and the living
will.77

The interview with one thus crazed
became so embarrassing that I was
about to escape it by flight, when the
steward entered the room. The Coun-
tess glared at him for a moment, rose,
and walked with a haughty, and, for
her years, a vigorous step from the li-
brary.

" Were you much disturbed, Am-
brose ?7' inquired Osborne.

" Yes, sir ; and in some fear, though
she has been here but a few minutes.
It is the Dowager Countess — is it not?77

uYes. It is singular that she said
nothing to you. She is very apt to
make queer remarks to strangers.77

" She did say something,'7 I said, and
repeated her words.

" Do you understand it ?'7 he inquir-
ed.

Now, why should he ask that ? Why
should I understand it? Is there some
secret here they fear I may fathom ?

These were the questions that I in-
stantly put to myself. But to Osborne

I merely gave a negative to his ques-
tion.

" She sometimes eludes the vigilance
of her attendant,77 he said, " and goes
wandering about in this strange kind
of way, startling visitors with all kinds
of queer sayings. She often fancies if
she meets with a stranger that he must
be her son. She has never recovered
the late earl's loss.77

" Her ladyship seems to be very old,"
I said.

" Yes • but I merely came to get a
book, and will not disturb you.'7

Mr. Osborne selected a book from
the shelves, and left the room.

I resumed my study, but was doom-
ed to another interruption. I heard
the door open, and on looking around,
saw another stranger.

The last intruder was a woman, neat-
ly clad in black, apparently a kind of
domestic. She was about forty years
of age, with bold, strong features, short
in stature, rather stout, but not fat.
Her eyes were grey, and were fixed cm
me in some surprise.

"I beg pardon, sir,77 she said, " but
I have missed the Countess Dowager,
and looked to see if she were here. She
sometimes comes in the library-77

" Ah ! you are her attendant then ?"

" Yes, sir.77

" She was here, but left when Mr.
Osborne came.77

" She does not like him — who does ?
I hope you won't think me imperti-
nent, but pray who are you, sir ?7'

" My name is Ambrose Fecit. I am
Mr. Guttenberg7s apprentice and adopt-
ed son.77

" A printer's boy ! How singular \n

I was amused at the tone in which
the words were uttered, and the look
of wonder in her face.

18 65. J THE PEER AND THE PRINTER. 69

" Pray," I inquired, " is it singular " Whose portrait Vr

that I should be a printer's apprentice, I'm sure I don't know. The butler

or that, being a printer's apprentice, I says he was a pirate. It has hung

should be seated here ?" there for years. The late earl brought

" No, it was not that ; but the like- it here. Would you like to see it V

ness was so strong." " Very much," I replied.

" What likeness ?" " Come with me, and I will show

" Yours ; you look like the portrait you."
in the north gallery."

(7b be continued:)

-+&+~

A LOST HEART.

You gave me your heart, a donation of woe,
From that gift all the mischief has grown ;

For now I've lost mine, and never shall know
Which is yours, and which is my own.

THE POET AND THE GODS.

g« Give me," said Bacchus, " a bumper of wine !"
*' No," said Apollo, " a young lass be mine !"

** Then," said the poet, " since the gods disagree,
To end the dispute, let both be for me."

-:o:-

THE POET'S TOAST.

To the old let long life be a treasure ;

And the young, let them taste cv'ry pleasure :
And the fair, let us kiss,
They'll welcome the bliss ;

All the rent, give them peace without measura

THE LITERATURE OF WAR.

|Feb.

THE LITERATURE OP WAR.

I ne'er approved this rash romantic war,
Begot by hot- brained bigots, and fomented
By the intrigues of proud despairing priests.
All ages have their madness, this is ours."

[Lino's Elmerklc.

Critically speaking" the title of this
article may not be correct. For war
is a foe to literature, as it is of every
other polite accomplishment and virtue.
The field of literature and refinement
lies in the regions of peace. That nev-
er flourished in time of war. It was
nursed at the breast of peace. The
great jEneid of Virgil came out of the
quiet and peaceful shades of Mantua.
So it was in the solitary vales of
Vaucluse that Petrarch drew the
breath of poetic inspiration, and sent
forth his sweet sonnets to refine and
elevate the affections. It was in the
depths of peace that Paradise Lost
was born. War never gave birth to
such triumphant monuments of genius
as these. It is the nature and the
business of war to destroy the works
of literature and virtue. Whither have
vanished the splendid temples, paint-
ings and statues that once adorned the
cities of Corinth and Athens ? Ques-
tion not Time but the destructive God
of War. Behold the revels of the
Goths and Huns of Alaric among the
monumental glories of Rome ! After
the streets had been strewn with the
dead of every age, a violent assault
was made upon the works of art of
every description Says Gibbon, "The
palaces of Rome, were rudely stripped
of their splendid and costly furniture.
The sideboards of massy plate, and the
variegated wardrobes of silk and pur-

ple, were irregularly piled in wagons
that always followed the march of a
Gothic army. The most exquisite
works of art were roughly handled or
wantonly destroyed ; many a statue
was melted for the sake of the pre-
cious materials ; and many a vase, in
the division of the spoil, was shivered
into fragments by- the stroke of the
battle-ax."

Is it possible that Gibbon wrote
these things of those savage barbari-
ans, the Goths and Huns, in the City
of Rome, one thousand four hundred
and fifty years ago? We think he
must have been prophesying of the
performances of the refined and Chris-
tian soldiery of the North in the cities
of the South, in the year of our Blessed
Lord, one thousand eight hundred and
sixty-four. 0 war ! war ! what a fiend
art thou ! The fury of the vandals in
Italy has been the way of all nations
when thoroughly inspired by the demon
of war. How often has the whole
beautiful Palatinate been laid waste
by this foul fiend I The Ukraine, dur-
ing the last century, was laid waste in
the same savage manner by that mon-
ster Catharine of Russia. Almost the
whole of La Vandee, thickly peopled
as it was with a rural population, and
everywhere bearing the mark of the
highest cultivation, and smiling with
plenty and happiness, was doomed, in
the French Revolution, to a horrid de-

1865.]

THE LITERATURE OF WAR.

vastation. Mr. Southcy, in his history
of the Peninsular War, speaking- of the
splendid castle of Benevento, says :
"Every thing" combustible was seized.
Fires were lighted against those fine

o o

walls ; and pictures of unknown value,
the wurks of the greatest Spanish
masters, and of other great painters
who left so many of their finest pro-
ductions in Spain,were heaped together
as fuel. Cottages were all roofless and
untenanted. Ashes scattered upon
their ruined walls, gardens, the shells
of' fine houses, all destroyed by fire.''
Think we just here of the noble, the
Christian, the Union-saving* march of
Sheridan through the rich and beauti"
ful valley of the Shenandoah, or of
Sherman over the fair and fruitful
fields of Georgia. Wise, humane and
beautiful way to save the Union ! Let
us pause for a moment to admire the
wisdom and humanity of this modern
march of the vandals, and adore the
character of the very Christian people
who applaud it ! To drink still deeper
draughts of approval, let us go back to
1814, and behold the British army en-
tering the City of Washington. They
burn down the capitol, the Presi-
dent's house, the public offices, des-
troying the national library, with all
its invaluable historic documents.
Beautiful 1 Wc, whose sublime pa-
triotism, and lofty Christian feelings,
prompt us to rejoice in the burning of
southern mansions, and in committing
to the flames rare libraries, and con-
tinental pictures, will find sweet
themes for reflection in these reminis-
ces of British vandalism. They ought
to make us in love with war like
a Christian minister. They ought
to make our hearts swell with
watls faction, like the heart of a minis-

ter when he hears of the burniiiLr of a
wheat-field, or of the fireing of a
widow's home.

Such a demon does war make of hu-
man nature.

"The gates of mercy shall be shut up ;

And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of

heart,
In liberty of bloody hand, shall rage
With conscience wide as hell ; mowing like

grass

Your fresh fair virgins and your flowering
maids."

(Slialcspeare, Henry V.

In the fable of Mars the reign of that
destructive god is foreshadowed. He
was born of Juno, without a father, in
a fit of jealousy and revenge. Having
learned that Jupiter had brought Pal-
las into the world by projecting that
goddess from his brain, without her as-
sistance, Juno retired to the garden
of Olenitis, and, without his aid, brought
Mars, the god of war, into the world.
The 3^oung monster was nursed by
fierceness. He was worshipped in
Lemos by the sacrifice of human beings.
His companions were fear and anger.
His sister, Bellona-, attended him with
a bloody whip. The wolf, the dog, the
vulture and the cheating Pye, were
dedicated to him. Typical of his fero-
cious, ravenous, and lying character.
He is described by Homer as a mur-
erer — unjust, impious, mad and perfidi-
ous. His priests were called Salii, and
were twelve in number, who carried
the Ancilia, or sacred bucklers from
the Temple of Mars, in procession,
leaping, dancing, and singing profane-
ly through the streets. What a pic-
ture of the levity, profanity, and dis-
gusting infidelity of the abolition
priests of our day ! These hyenas of
our pnlpits are the Salii from the Tem-
ple of Mars, not ministers of the blessed

THE LITERATURE OF AVAR.

Feb.,

religion of the Prince of Peace. Their
altars were originally built by Numa,
not by Christ. Mars was absolved from
the murder which he committed in the
iEropagus, the seat of Athenian jus-
tice, to signify that, while the slightest
misdeeds were punished in the reign
of peace, the greatest crimes, the most
inhuman murders were permitted under
the reign of Mars. Seneca describes
it all in this line— r" Pa vafurlepuniun-
iur, magna in triumphis agunter ;h i. e.,
small murders are punished, great
ones honored with triumphs.

The ancient poets represent Mars as
the enemy of Minerva, the goddess of
wisdom and arts. There was an irre-
concilable feud between them. How
true has fabulous history proved itself
to be in the real history of civilized na-
tions ! Mars the enemy of Minerva.
War everywhere the foe of wisdom
and art. The implacable enemy of civ-
ilization. Many nations, in fighting
lor the possession of territory, have
lost their civilization.

"Alas, poor country :
Altmost afraid to know thyself! It cannot
Be called our mother, but our grave ; where

nothing
Bat who know nothing is never seen to smile ;
Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks that

rend the air,
Are made, not mark'cl ; where violent sorrow

seems
A modern ecstasy ; and the dead man's knell
Is there scarce asked for whom ; and good

men's lives
Expire before the flowers in their caps.

[Macbeth.

In these lines we may see our own
wretched face, as in a glass, at the
present moment- The victories we
have won are over ourselves. Tri-
umphs over our own happiness and
lives. We sometimes go oT in ecstasy,
but it is' the ecstasy of madness, for it

is over our own dead. We shout like
fiends that we killed ten thousand
" rebels." But we forget like tools that
wTe devoted to death thirty thousand of
our own people in that single day of
combat. Our own people ! Who are
our people ? Are not the Virginians
as much our people as the Vermonters ?
If I were to choose for my neighbor be-
tween the general characteristics of a
Virginian and a Vermonter, I could not
be long in making my election. Why
should I, who find it impossible not to
weep over the mangled corpse of a brave
man of Vermont, turn round and laugh
and jibe over the same sight of a
brave Virginian ? Thank God that I
am not so bereft of my reason and my
humanity. They are all my people.
Nor can I find in my heart any sym-
pathy for the popular uncivilization and
barbarism which localizes death and
then shouts in gladness over it. The
triumph of offensive war is, at best, a
barbarian's glory. I shudder at the
attrocities of war, committed by na-
tions professing Christianity I turn
away in sick disgust from these bloody
Sain, the lying priests from the filthy
temple of Mars, who officiate in our
pulpits in the prostituted name of the
sublime Prince of Peace from Gallilee.
Mr. Medhurst an English missiona-
ary at Batavia, once presented a tract
to a Malay. On receiving it he said to
the missionary : -' Are you coming to
teach me this new religion ? Look at
the nations professing it. How they
cut each other's throat about such
trifles as the title to a few acres of
land !" The Emperor of China gave as '
a reason for refusing the Christian re-
ligion to be preached in his empire, that
"Wnerever the Christians go, they
whiten the soil with human bones "

1865.]

ilIE LITERATURE OF WAR.

A Turk at Jerusalem once said to
Mr. Wolff, a missionary: "Why do
you come to us ?" " To teach you
peace," replied Wolff. " Peace !" ex-
claimed the Turk, leading him to the
window, and pointing to Mount Calva-
ry ; " There upon the very spot where
your Lord poured out his blood, the Mo"
hammedan is obliged to interfere to
to prevent Christians from shedding
the blood of each other !" What would
be the ho rror of the Malay of Batavia
the Emperor China, or the Turk of Je-
rusalem were they to look upon
our country now, as it lies soaking in
fraternal blood! How would they
shudder at the ferocity of the conflict
and at the low and groveling motive
with which it is waged ! If this is
civilization what would barbarism be ?
If this is liberty where would they turn
their eyes to get a look at tyranny ?
If this is a model Republic where the
laws are under the feet of armies, what
what could a model despotism be ? Plu-
tarch says of Philopcemen, " Nature,
indeed, gave him such talents for com"
mand that he knew not only how to
govern according to the laws, but he
knew how to govern the laws themselves.''1
If this is praise, we have examples
nearer to us than the Achaen comman-
der. Plutarch also tells us that the
blood-thirsty Marius studied to make
new commotions in the Roman Com-
monwealth, because he discovered that
all his greatness, arose from war. It
was the saying of this tyrant that "In-
ter arma silent leges" — i. e., in war the
laws are silent. This has been called
a law maxim. It never was a law
maxim, notwithstanding we have heard
no less a person than the Hon. Daniel
S. Dickinson quote it as such. D was
the maxim of a tyrant and a murderer.

If such were a principle of law all that
any monster would have to do to de-
prive the people of the protection of
their laws would be to get up a war. Sir
James Mackintosh remarks that " an ar-
my with the sentiments which it is the
system of modern Europe to inspire, is
not only hostile to freedom but incom-
patible with it "

It is the nature of war not only to
make an end of liberty and to destroy
the works of science, literature and art,
but to overthrow the social fabric it-
self. Tacitus refers to this as one of
the scourges of war. Count Segur in
his account of the expedition into Rus.
sia, has this remark : " Henceforward
there was no fraternity in arms ; there
was an end to all society, to all ties ;
the excess of evils had brutified them.'*
It is even so in all wars, except those
of unavoidable self-defense. We are in
full possession of this intolerable
scourge at the present moment. It
was the boast of a drunken western
senator, in the Senate Chamber of the
United States, even before the com.
mencement of the present war, that
11 we will leave the print of our char-
iot wheels so deep in the soil of the
South that eternity shall not wear them
out," That threat may be fulfilled ;
but those chariot wheels have already
left still deeper marks in our social
structure. The plowshare has been
sent through society here in the North,
until the very foundations of good
neighborhood have been broken up ;
and a whole generation must pass
away from the scene of action before
we shall recover from the shock. The
child is yet unborn that will live to see
us in the possession of the peace, pros-
perity, and all the blessings of civili-
zation which we enjoyed in such

THE LITERATURE OF WAR.

[Feb.,

abundant degree before the commence-
ment of the suicidal strife. Society
with us more resembles a caravan of
tigers than a community of intelligent,
Christian gentlemen. Neighbors pass
each other in the streets with that pe-
culiar cut-throat cast of countenance
which indicates the hell that reigns
within the breast. The war is every-
where. Not alone in the smoking ru-
ins of Southern cities, but here in the
heart and brain of every man and
woman of the North. Our chariot
wheels have passed over the fruitful
fields of the South ; and they have al-
so passed over our own hearts, tearing
out their human sympathies, and scat-
tering to the four winds of heaven all
the sweet charities and blessed emblems
of religion and civilization. There is no
escape from the consequences of our
crime. No hiding place for our follies
When Mars thought he was commit,
ting adultery with Venus in secret, he
was seen by all the gods. Even so
our present folly and uncivilization are
seen and abhorred by all the world ex-
cept ourselves. We, as if possessed by
demons, rejoice even in our calami-
ty. In such detestation did the Ro-
mans at the most refined era of their
history hold civil war that they would
not permit the picture of Mars to be
painted on their gates and private
doors ; but, instead, painted the like
ness of Minerva, the goddess of wis
dom, art, science, and literature.

We shudder to imagine what the
people of this country would, at the
present time, paint as public emblems
of their taste in morals, literature and
art. As for our literature, it has lost
nearly every trace of all the respecta-
bilit}' it ever possessed. For the most
part, its dignity and truth are in keep-

ing with the worthless and lying des-
patches of the War Department. Al-
most everything in the shape of ro-
mance, criticism, essays, and poetry,
partakes of the fever, fraud and false-
hood of politics and manners. A
book that was not devoted to some de-
lusion or sham, would astonish us, as
something making its appearance out
of due time. The current popular li-
terature is well represented by such
books as the " The Bobbin Boy," wh'ch
is simply a string of insipid, fulsome
lies about the progress of Gen. Banks
from boyhood to manhood. He is call-
ed " The Bobbin Boy" from having
lived in a factory. Had he never left
it, his own and his country's honor
would be better off. His life began
with bobbin, and winds up with tape — -
poor stuff, in this instance, certainly,
to make a hero of ; and a wretched
piece of mortal vanity to weave into a
volume. There is another book of the
same character about Gen. Grant, en-
titled " The Tanner Boy," based upon
the fact that his father was a tanner ;
and another about Chase, as " The Fer-
ry Boy ;" and still another about Andy
Johnson, as " The Tailor Boy." There
are dozens of books of these titles, all
written in a vein of laudatory fulsomc-
ness and most indecent disregard of
truth. They are called " books for the
times," and they are well named ; for
their shallowness, falseness, and syco-
phancy, are indeed characteristic births
of the times. Even Edward Everett
writes and lectures volumes of sense-
less fiction and dribble about the re-
bellion and the war, showing that his
manhood and his literary character
have succumbed to the enervating and
demoralizing temper of the hour. Bry-
ant vainly tries to spur up his jaded

1865] THE LITERATURE OF WAR. 75

muse to sing* the glories of blood and the popular litterateurs of the day. He

negroes. Only such poetlings as Boker, is the t3'pc of the new American man

Bayard Taylor, Stoddard and Aldrich, of genius. Alas, the once bright face

can get off their tin horns at full blast of American literature is covered with

on such subjects, because their muse soot and blood, and wool. We advise

is incapable of higher flight. It is the no man to attempt to wash them off,

age of negro literature. Fred Doug- unless he is prepared to encounter the

las deserves to stand at the head of yell of a hundred thousand hyenas !

-♦-

ARABIAN EPIGRAMS.

ON A VALETUDINARIAN.

So careful is Isa, and anxious to last,

So afraid of himself is he grown,
He swears through the nostras the breath goes too fast,

And he's trying to breathe thro' but one.

ON A MISER.

11 Hang her, a thoughtless, wasteful fool,
She scatters corn where'er she goes"—

Quoth Hassan, angry at his mule,
That dropt a dinner to the crows.

TO A LADY, UPON HER REFUSAL OF MELONS, AND HER REJECTION OP THE
ADDRESSES OF AN ADMIRER.

When I sent you my melons, you cried out with scorn,
"They ought to be heavy and wrinkled, and yellow;"

When I offered myself, whom those graces adorn,
You flouted and called me an ugly old fellow.

TO A LADY, ON SEEING HER BLUSH.

Lelia, whene'er I gaze on thee,

My altered cheek turns pale,
"While upon thine, sweet maid, I see

A deep'ning blush prevail.

Lelia, shall I the cause impart

Why such a change takes place ?
The crimson stream deserts my heart,

To mantle on thy face.

TO A FEMALE CUPBEARER.

Come, Lelia, fill the goblet up,

lloach round the rosy wine,
Think not that we will take the- cup

From any hand but thine.

A draft liko this 'twore vain to seek,

No grane can such supply ;
It st'Niis its tint from Lena's check,

Its brightness Ironi her eye.

POETICAL HISTORY OF KISSING.

[Feb,

POETICAL HISTORY OP KISSES.

Now, let ns see if we can unbend a
little from the severe attitude in which
our heart and brain are fixed by long1
battling' against fraud, despotism and
war, to bring out of the shadow re-
gions of the past something of this de-
lightful record of kisses. But let it
not be supposed that we are writing
this article exclusively for our lady pa-
trons. The men are more in need of
it, from the fact that they are more in
danger of losing their humanities in
the barbarian ordeal through which we
are passing. The theme is all-compre-
hending. It has made of one blood all
nations ; and we may add that it has
made of one blood the philosophers and
the fools of all nations ; for all have
acknowledged the delight of kissing ;
though not perhaps in the same sub-
lime degree, as we suppose that must
depend, in a great measure, upon the
culture and refinement of the heart and
brain. Historically, we are able to
trace kissing as far back, at least, as
the termination ot the siege of Troy
when we are told that " upon the re-
turn of the Grecian warriors, their
wives met them, and joined their lips
together with joy'"

Kissing among the heathens was a
religious ceremony. Cicero tells us of
the statue of Hercules, of which the
chin and lips were worn away by the
constant kissing of the worshippers.
We have traces of this ceremony in
the kissing of the Testament on the
administration of oaths in our courts
of justice.

Kissing also h<*s an early sacred
history, for we read in Genesis that
• Jacob kissed Rachel."

The refined Greeks celebrated no-
thing so much as the kiss. Anacreon
tells us that he dreamed of asking a
beautiful girl for a kiss, and just as ho
was about to receive it, he unfortu-
nately awoke and lost it :

" When as I thought to snatch a kiss,

The vision fled— the sleep of bliss

And left alone, I felt in vain

The torturing wish to sleep again."

The following is a perfectly literal
translation of one of the epigrams of

the Greek Anthology :

" A certain maid kissed rne one evening with
moist lips. ;

The kiss was nectar, for her mouth emitted
the sweets of nectar.

Now I am drunk with the kiss, having im-
bibed so much love."

The following exquisite lines are al-
so from the Anthology :

" He who thy lovely face beholds,
Whose beauty every charm unfolds,
Is surely blest ; but more so he,
Who hears thy voice of harmony !
But more than mortal is the bliss
Of him who ravishes a kiss,
In p'ayful dalliance from those lips
Where glowing love his empire keeps
But quite a god is sure, the swain,
Who feels thee, blushing, kiss again,
And from that mouth the gift receives,
Which all his soul of sense bereaves."

But not in Greek poetry alone do we
find such delightful accounts of the
kiss ; the philosophers of the classic
land, even such profound ones as Pla-
to, may be quoted to the same effect,
as witness the following literal trans-
lation of one of his epigrams :

' ' When Agathis by a burning kiss consent-
ed to repay my passion, I felt my soul com-
ing to my lips, as though it wanted to get up-
on those of Agathis."

1865.]

rOETICAL HISTORY OF KISSING.

Aristieneytus called a kiss "the sweet
uiin^lina: of souls." Tins beautiful
idea that the souls of lovers pass from
i to lip through a kiss is everywhere
een in the writings of the Greeks.
VVe often meet with the charming fan-
cy that the soul of the dying- may pass
into the soul of the living- lover through
a kiss. Bion has made use of this
consoling thought in his matchless
Epitaph on Adonis, where he makes
Venus exclaim ;

" Stay, poor Adonis ! lift thy languid head,
Ah, let me find thy last expiring breath,
Mix Hps with lips, and draw thy soul in

aeath.
Wake but a li' tie for a last, last kiss :
13 i t ie last, but warm with lite as this—
That through my lips I may thy spirit drain,
Suck thy sweet breath— drink love through

every vein ;
This kiss shall serve me ever in thy stead,
Since thou thyself, unhappy one, art tied."

To show the difficulty of doing jus-
tice to this beautiful passage in Eng-
lish verse, we give a perfectly literal
prose translation of it :

" Rise for a moment, 0, Adonis ! and give
me a kiss just before thou diest! Kiss me if
it be never so little, while yet thy kiss has
life ; whilst thy breath may flow from thy
soul into my mouth, and into my heart,*' aud
I will steal away thy sweet love, but I will
preserve this kiss as if it was Adonis himself,
when thou, unhappy youth, dost ily me."

The Latin poets were far less refined
and spirititelle in their ideas of the kiss
than the Greeks.

The following, for an illustration,
will show us what a complete glutton
Martial was in the business :

"Come, dearest, and give mo sweet kisses,
Fox sweeter sure girl never gave ;

Lut why in the midst of my blisses,
Do you :isk me how many I'll have?

* The word we translate " heart," is, in the <irw;<:
"livor." Tneanclems believed that the abode ui'
love was lu the liver*

I'm not to be stinted in pleasure ;

Then prithee, my charmer, be kind ;
For whilst I love you beyond incisure,

To numbers I'll ne'er be confined."

If we may trust the word of Foty-
dore Virgil, the people of England, in
his time, were famous for their kissing
habits. He says : " The women of
England not only salute their rela-
tions, but all persons promiscuously ;
and this ceremony they repeat, gently
touching them with their lips, not only
with grace, but without the least im-
modesty."

But the great, the reverend, the pi-
ous Erasmus, bears a still more ample
and glowing testimony to this sweet
custom of the ancient Britons. He
wrote home to a friend, as follows :

" Did you know, my Faustus, the plea-
sures which England affords, you would fly
here on winged feet, and if your gout would
not allow yon, you would wish yourself a
Daedalus.* To mention to you one among
many things, here are nymphs of the love-
liest looks, good-humored, and whom you
would prefer even to your favorite muses.
Here also prevails a custom never enough to
be commended, that whenever you come,
every one receives you with a kiss ; when
you return, kisses again meet you. If you
meet any one, the first sa.utation is a kiss.
In short, kisses everywhere abound ; which,
my Faustus, did you once taste, how very
sweet and how very fragrant they are, you
would not, like Solon, wish for ton years ex-
ile in England, but would desire to spend
there the remainder of your lite."

If so pious and godly a scholar as
Erasmus might ily off into such rap-
tures on the subject of kisses, we shall

* Daedalus was on Athenian artist, of Whom many
fabulous things were written. For a certain crime
he was banished, with his son, to a labyrinth iu
Crete. Dnder pretence of making a present to the
kki'.,', be asked for some feathers and was; wit a
which tie made himself and son wings, and flew away
Into Sardinia. nia son> unfortunately, flew bo near
tut;: sun, t:mt the wax whlcfl held the feathers toge-
Ui >r melted, and ue was lust. Ovid tods us that no
built a tomple to Apollo.

POETICAL HISTORY OF KISSING.

[Feb.,

hardly find another individual in all
history whose dignity would be com-
promised by such a thing. The vola-
tile author of the following* lines was
not more infatuated with the nectarous
habit :

" When we dwell on the lips of the lass we
adore,
Not a pleasure in nature is wanting ;
May his soul be in heaven, he deserves it I'm
sure,
Who was first the inventor of hissing.

Master Adam, I verily think, was the man,
Whose discovery will ne'er be surpassed ;

Well, since the sweet game with creation be-
gan,
To the end of the world may it last'*

Sir Philip Sidney was not above
confessing his admiration of kissing,
as witness the following lines on the
power of a kirjs :

"Best charge and bravest retreat in Cupid's
tight,
A double key which opens to the heart,
Most rich when most its riches it impart,
Nest of young joys, schoolmaster of delight,
Teaching the mean at once to take and give,
The friendly stay, where blows both wound
and heal,
The petty death where each in other live,
Poor hope's first wealth, hostage of promise
weak,
Breakfast of love."

Ben Johnson evidently wished to be
thought a connoisseur in the sweet art
of kissing :

" For love's sake, kiss me once again,
I long, and should not beg in vain —

Here's none to spy or see ;
Why do you doubt or stay ?
i I'll taste as lightly as the bee
That doth but touch his flower, and flies
away. "

There must have been pretty strong
kissing going on in Shakspeare's time,
or the great poet was guilty of unpar-
donable exaggeration in the following
lines :

"Then kissed me hard,
As if he plucked up kisses by the roots
That grew upon my lips."

From the following we may conclude
that in Beaumont's day some of the la-
dies, at least, had a prudent and econ-
omising idea on this subject :

" Kiss you first, my lord? 'tis no fair fashion;
Our iips are like rose-buds ; blown with mens'

breaths
They lose both sap and savor. "

Drayton was no friend to bashful
and timid kissing ; he says :

" These poor half kisses kill me quite ;

Was ever man thus served ?
Amid an ocean of delight,

For pleasure to be starved. "

Mrs. Belm had some enthusiastic fan-
cies on the subject, as we judge from
the following lines in her Abdelazar)

" Sweet were his kisses on my balmy lips,
As are the breezes breathed amidst the

groves
Of ripening spices on the hight of day."

Dryden must have had some exalted
experience, or he would hardly have*
conceived these lines :

' ' Oh ! let me live forever on those lips !
The nectar of the gods to these is tasteless."

Dr. Wolcot was in great trouble at
the evanescent nature of the delicious
bliss :

" Soft child of love, thou balmy bliss,
Inform me, 0 delicious kiss !
Why thou so suddenly art gone,
Lost in the moment thou art won ?"

Sheridan seems to have been as wan-
dering as an Arabian on horseback in
his fancies, for ha says :

" I ne'er saw nectar on a lip,
But where my own did hope to sip."

No poet was ever to be more envied
than Leigh Hunt, if the kiss he receiv-
ed from " Jenny" was anything like as
sweet as he imagined it to be :

18G5.J POETICAL HISTORY OF KISSING. 79

" J^nny kissed me, when we met — ■ " And with a velvet lip print on his brow

Jump ng from the chair she sat in — Such language as the tongue hath never spo-

Time, you thief, who love to get ken. "

Sweets into your list, put that in ; _Tr , , ., ,,,-,,. T. „

c T, T, -, Wc have read of a blusninor lip, 7

Say I m weary, say I m sad, ° ' '

Say that health and wealth have missed me, " r llby lip," " dewy lip," " pouting' lip,"

Say I'm growing old — but add, "glowing lip," and even "burning1

Jenny kissed me." lip/* and, doubly fortified as we are by

As this article is limited to exactly philosophy, we think we could stand

four pages, we have space for just one a little of all these; but 0, mighty

illustration more, which shall be from Cupid ! defend us from such a cold and

our own countrywoman, Mrs. Sigour- passionless, and cats-paw like thing as

ney : a " velvet lip I"

-+&*-

SONG OF THE AGES.

Old earth had once its swaddling clothes,

In dumb phenominal of tims ;
Its strength like growing childhood rose,
Amid dark chaos, and the chime

Of morning stars — whose music rung,
"Where gloaming darkness wildly sung,
"Light, more light!"

And then its brawny manhood came —

Its heart the mighty summons felt,
Rebounding with its blood of flame —
And girded with an ocean belt ;
Around its mountain ribs of rock
Was heard the awful thunder shock,
"Light, more light!"

And man was there, translating all

The mystic psalmody of Fate,
God's hieroglyphics on the wall,
Emblazoned o'er creation's gate —

Fire ciphers which the brooding night
Made voiceful in a cry for light,

"Light, more light!"

Up went the shout through ever}'- age —

A God's voice in the soul of man—
ltesounding o'er a sea of rage,
Before the mighty battle-van

Of heroes, martyrs, and (Jon's Grkat,
Who scorn the light 01 lust and hate,
"Light, more light 1"

C. CHAVNVF.Y BURR.

JUDGE DOUGLAS S SUPPRESSED PAMPHLET

[Feb.,

JUDGE DOUGLAS'S SUPPRESSED PAMPHLET ON SECESSION.

The Hon. Henry May delivered a
speech in Congress, Feb. 27th, 1863,
in which he declared that JudsreDo'ua:-
las, not long- before his death, read to
him, in manuscript, a pamphlet which
he was about to publish, embracing a
plan for a peaceable solution of the
conflict between the North and South.
It was, at the time, well known to the
intimate friends of Mr. Douglas that he
was engaged on such a work, and its
publication was looked for with emo-
tions of the profoundest anxiety and
hope. But alas ! the death of the dis-
tinguished statesman cut short all
these expectations, and robbed his
country of the wisdom of that council
which would have had a powerful in-
fluence in directing the public mind in-
to measures 'which might have saved
our land from this horrible inundation
of blood.

The following* is the statement of the
lion. Mr. May :

"Mr. Speaker, that eminent and far-see-
ing statesman, the late Judge Douglas, avow-
ed to me in April preceding his death, his
solemn convietion that our Union was at an
end. I violate no confidence in repeating
liis opinions, since he assured me it was his
purpose to publish his views at an early day;
and if the sequel of his life may seem in con-
flict with these views, there are those among
his personal friends on this floor, who can
reconcile his conduct, and show the confor-
mity of his plans with a peaceful solution of
of our national troubles. Judge Douglas,
on that occasion, read to me an elaborate es-
say, that he told me had cost him more
thought and labor than any work of his life ;
that he feared it was too long, and wished
both to abridge and simplify it, so that *it
might be read and understood by all; that he
■would revise it at Chicago, and then give it

to his countrymen. Death, alas! denied
this most patriotic design. That essay as-
cribed our present situation to the aggres-
sive spirit of northern Abolitionism. It de-
clared his conviction that the Union of our
States, as originally formed and maintained,
was finally destroyed, and no political union
could exist again between the free and the
slaveholding States ; that such an idea must
be abandoned, and a commercial unic-n, found-
ed upon the plan generally of the Zollverein
of the States of Germany, be accepted as the
only practical arrangement to secure peace
now and hereafter. That masterly paper,
every word of which I heard read by him-
self, and which since his death I have endea-
vored in vain to procure for the benefit of its
wise counsels to our countrymen, fully ex-
plained the plan, operation, and results of
the Zollverein, and showed how, with cer-
tain modifications, it could be adapted to
sustain, all those principal causes and influ-
ences which have hitherto made the United
States the happiest and most prosperous of
nations. "

Several parties beside Mr. May have
applied to Mrs. Douglas for the manu-
script above referred to, but in every
instance she has refused to give it to
the public, for reasons which we are
sorry to say reflect little honor to her-
self, while they stamp the administra-
tion with an infamy which time can
never efface. It was a knowledge of
the existence of this document that
caused Forney, who has well earned
the name of the " dog" of Mr. Lincoln,
to declare, in his remarks at the cere-
monies at the battle-field of Gettys-
burg, that " Mr. Douglas died at the
right time." For faction, and treason,
and despotism, it is true, the great
statesman did die at the right time ;
but, for his country, at the wrong time.
Had he lived, this now suppressed pain

1865.1 0^ SECESSION.

phlct would have been given to the publish ourselves as fools. Even to
public, and it would have held, at least, succeed in " conquering" the southern
the Democratic party from sloughing States would be precisely the most
off into this deep gulf of shame, as an perfect and ruinous destruction of the
abettor of despotism, where it now Union, because it would be a complete
lies. blotting out of the organic principle on
The position assumed by Judge which th j Union was founded. Better
Douglas, in his intended publication, that the form of the Union should be
was in keeping with his memorable overthrown a thousand time's, than that
speech in the Senate, where he declar- the organic principle should be violat-
ed that " war is disunion ; final, eter- ed in a single instance ; for while the
nal separation," and where he further principle survives, there is hope of new,
declared that the Republican party and, perhaps, of more perfect union.
" wanted war," "for the very reason The present Federal Government is the
which all the world now sees they have third Union that has been formed by
waQ*ed it. Had Jud<;re Douglas lived, these States, each succeeding one more
he would have thundered these truths perfect than the former. But once des-
into the public ear until the popular troy the principle, and all hope, not
heart would have stirred like the ocean only of Union, but of American liberty,
in a storm. lie would have told the perishes. The fatal mistake of the
whole truth, and the people would have people of the North has been their un-
believed him. His death left the North willingness to admit the unavoidable
without a statesman possessing the conclusions of their own reason and
combined forces of intelligence, hon- common sense, so plainly, stated in Mr.
esty, pluck, and position, to make him- Douglas's Senatorial speech, and more
self the leader of any honorable way elaborately set forth in his pamphlet,
out of our difficulties, or a wise plan which has been so shamelessly and so
of reconstruction. The first thing to criminally suppressed, viz., that it is
be comprehended was, what the far. not possible to save the Union by war.
seeing Douglas understood at a glance, and that if we have no other remedy,
viz., that tear teas disunion. We find the Union is at an end. . Every hour
it impossible to believe that any intel- we postpone the acceptance of this con-
ligont man could think otherwise. We elusion, is simply misfortune and ruin
have never thought so meanly of the to ourselves. It is a useless sacrifice
intelligence of the leading Republi. of our people, and an insane piling up
cans, or of their to°ls, the " War Dem- of debt which crushes us, and w.il
ocrats," as to suppose that they really crush our children to latest genera-
imagined they could save the Union by tions. We shall not, in this article,
war. We have never, for a moment, dwell upon the foolishness of the ex-
doubted that the real intention of these pectation with which the people of the
leaders is to subvert and overthrow North have been inspired, oi' finally
the State governments, and establish conquering or subjugating the South.
the centralized despotic principle upon The man who entertains such an idea,
their ruins. To suppose otherwise is simply suffers his revengeful passions
to regard them all as lunatics, or to to run away with his judgment. We do

judge Douglas's suppressed pamphlet, &c.

[Feb.,

not doubt that until we have something
to offer besides the word of command,
something" better than threats of fire,
plunder, rape, and confiscation, she
will be found equal to the worst that
we can do. Four years of superhu-
man putting forth of our utmost
strength ought to teach us to think so;
and they would, if we had not lost our
reason. We still hold, with the la-

mented Douglas, that war is disunion ;
and we entirely agree with the posi-
tion assumed in his suppressed pam-
phlet, that of all the measures of resto-
ration, war is the only one that could
be devised that would render eternal
separation absolutely certain. We ai e
repeating the example of that lunatic
who cut his own throat to save him-
self from dying of a fever.

-*♦*■

THE IDEAL REPUBLIC.

DESCRIBING UNACCOUNTABLE WONDERS DISCOVERED BY PROFESSOR HUGH FALUTTN, IN A REMARK-
ABLE VOYAGE TO THE IDEAL "WORLD, WHEREIN IMPOSSIBLE THINGS ARE MADE VERY POSSIBLE,
AND THINGS THAT NEVER EXISTED ARE MADE PLAUSIBLE TO THE SIMPLEST INTELLECT.

Tue readers of The Old Guard will re-
member that sometime during the very happy-
year of 1864, we published a brief report of
a lecture before the Loyal Philosophical So-
ciety of New York, by the very learned Pro-
fessor Hugh Falutin, on the character of the
Ideal World. We are happy to be enabled
t:» announce that, for the unspeakable benefit
of mankind, the same learned and useful So-
ciety has engaged the services of the most
ingenious Professor Hugh Falutm,for a course
of lectures, to be delivered once a mouth
during the present winter. The first lecture,
which was given to a crowded audience of
the learned and elite of both sexes, was on
The Jo eai Republic. The editor of The Old
Guard is not a member of the learned Soci-
ety, but he was politely favored with a ticket
to the whole course, and had the honor to be
' one of the del ghted crowd of highly intelli-
gent people who witnessed the opening per-
formance. The distinguished Professor came
forward amid a storm of applause, and the
waving of a sea of white and odorous hand-
kerchiefs, and said :

Ladies and Gentlemen : — In order
that I may not be accused of egotism

in narrating my very remarkable disco-
veries, it is proper that I should briefly
state the circumstances under which
my voyage to the new Ideal Republic
was undertaken. From my youth, I
have been a hard student of the science
of government, and of innate ideas. My
researches led me to a state of un-
speakable wretchedness and discon-
tent, at the groveling nature of all
things in this material republic. Gra-
dually my intellectual part, drooping
under the pressure, began to retire
from the sensible world, and would
have resigned itself into a state of in-
cogitancy, had not the most excellent
and learned Dr. Philo Umbug appear-
ed at the right moment, to divert me
from that inclination. I had never seen
him before ; but having cultivated in-
nate ideas, I instantly knew him. Af-
ter a few compliments, he told me it
was the respect he had for a person of

1865.]

THE IDEAL REPUBLIC.

my extraordinary merits that brought
hirn thither to obtrude upon my priva-
cy.; that lie knew the grounds of my
discontent, and would instantly remove
them, by taking me into a better state
of life, where I should be put in pos-
session of entire felicity. A Republic,
in fact, where every man, and every
woman, would have riches, honor, wit,
beauty, and every other possible and
impossible accomplishment. I at once
concluded that this blessed state could
be no oilier than the glorious Ideal Re-
public, of which I had been dream-
ing so long. Growing impatient to be
on the voyage, I began to look about
for my wings, a fine new pair, of great
strength and beauty, which my innate
ideas had already made for the purpose of
visiting an old acquaintance, which I
have reason to believe at the present
time resides in the city of Copernicus,
in the moon. I very well understood,
by nay innate idea, that the Ideal Re-
public must lie in some of the lunar re-
gions, or at least that we must take
the moon in our way to it. But the
learned and ingenious Dr. Philo Urn-
bug persuaded me to leave my wings
belli ud, as they would prove a great
hindrance to me inflvimr ; and assured
me that if I would give myself up en-
tirely to his guidance he would take
me to our journey's end in safety. He
told me I must first be hoodwinked —
that if I would become a true philoso-
pher, and see the Ideal Republic to the
best advantage, there was nothing1 so
proper and expedient as to deprive my-
self of my material vision. The rea-
son he gave for this plausible require-
ment was, the great inconvenience that
arises from our senses. It is sure, said
he, that is the greatest impediment in
the way of getting rid of this unjust

material Republic, and of getting into
the new ideal one. We should find
our eyes infinitely sharper if it were not
for light ; nay, we should see even
ideas themselves, did not this outward
light stand in the way. (Applause.)
So I blindfolded myself, and under the
inspiration of hope, andmy innate idea,
set forthwith eagerness for the beauti-
ful Ideal Republic. 0, what rapture,
as I approached the land of invisible
light ! Ye, who have your intellect
embodied, or immersed in matter,
whose thoughts are defiled by the con-
tagion of sense, can know nothing of
the sacred shades that inhabit inacces-
sible inanity. There I first discovered
the beatific frenzies — the parents of the
whole intelligible universe. Illumin-
ated sages, profound necromancers,
transcendental visionaries — the guar-
dians of superlunary essences — in the
midst of which dwelt the sublimated
habilaments, the indiginary and born
members of the new, the divine arche-
typal Republic. (Great applause.)
There I was made acquainted with the
lovely conceits, whims, caprices, chi-
meras, which are the sovereign dis-
pensers of human destiny, and which
bring to light things involved in an-
cient darkness, and veiled from men
by the interposition of blind reason.
On approaching the atmosphere of the
Ideal Republic, or rather as soon as I
came within the sphere of its activi-
ties, you, ladies and gentlemen, can
imagine my surprise to find myself
gravely turning upon my axis, which
was something more than a novelty,
as I had never traveled in that manner
before. And this probably might be
the reason that my brain was seized
with a most violent whizzing, as if a
great number of wind-mills had been

THE IDEAL REPUBLIC.

[Feb.,

very diligently at work within it. This
virtiginous circumstance of brain was
not in the least abated by the conti-
nued rolling of my person, which grew
more and more violent as I progressed.
At last I discovered something that
seemed to be in the shape of a scull,
which was making very discernible
circumvolutions about its own center.
Now, for the first time since the com-
mencement of my journey, my learned
guide spoke, and told me that this was
the Ideal Republic — that this vast mu'J
was the shell of it, and that inside of
it was the most wonderful and beauti-
ful state of society. That the happy
inhabitants never have the headache,
from the fact, probably, that they have
not real, but only ideal brains. The
only reality in their composition is their
stomachs, which appeared to be rea-
sonably active machines of their kind.

On entering this beatific, or trans-
sublinary state of society, the circum-
stance that amazed and delighted me
most was that all the white people were
either wholly transformed, or being ra-
pidly transformed into negroes. (Up-
rorious and long-continued applause.)
The only social inequality I noticed
was the contempt with which the
wholly transformed looked upon those
who were only in the process of being
transformed into negroes. To be a ne-
gro is the highest attainable peak of
glory in this Ideal Republic. (Deafen-
ing applause.) I saw one young white
woman, who could not have been long
there, from the pure whiteness of her
skin, fondling and kissing a negro ba-
by in the most ecstatic manner — call-
ing it " my darling," "my own sweet
cherub/'" my beautiful lilly" (tremen-
dous, applause and waving of white
handkerchiefs by the ladies,) "my an-

gel," " my joj and delight/' T saw an
immense procession of women, the
wives and daughters of merchants, I
waskrformed, crowding a public square
for the purpose of presenting some ne-
groes with various tokens of their love
and honor, (great applause,) and not
the least cheering and beautiful por-
tion of this ceremony was the evident
delight which these womens' husbands
experienced in seeing their wives en-
gaged in so ennobling a demonstra-
tion. I was told that those who were
so unfortunate as to be born white, did
the best they conld to atone for the dis-
grace, by supporting the negroes with-
out work, keeping them for the amuse-
ment and pleasure of their wives and
daughters. Beautiful thought ! Beau-
tiful Ideal Eepublic ! in which the un-
reasonable, the vulgar prejudices of
the old material Republic, formed by
such sense-encumbered laggards and
bigots as Washington, are unknown !
(Thundering applause.) Yes, Wash-
ington, ladies and gentlemen, whose
fatal precepts and example cursed this
material, sense-bound Republic, with a
superstitious arid degrading reverence
for such entangling, spirit-cramping-,
and love-restraining abominations as
constitutions and laws. (Terrific ap-
plause.) In the grand Ideal Republic
there are no such hinderments to hap-
piness. There, every man is free from
all weight of laws, and has nothing to
do but to cheerfully obey the will of
the President, or take the consequences.
(Ear-splitting applause.) Everything
is delightfully simple. Even the ro;>ds
and paths offer to man's ideal footsteps
the most plain and delightful passage.
They are not long and straight, and
encumbered with guide-posts, as in
this sense-oppressed Republic ; but

1865.]

THE IDEAL REPUBLIC.

charmingly involved, spreading into
infinite subdivisions, running out every
way at delicious random, and often in-
terfering and twining among them*
selves, so that, as the very ingenious
and learned Doctor Lincoln would say,
they resemble pig-tracks in a wilder-
ness ; or the veins in an animal ; or
rather the branches of a tree, which
issue from the trunk at different heights,
until they run together, and confound
themselves with one another, or to
epcak plainly :

2s am scepe allerius ramos impune videmus

Eleclre in allerius ;

(prolonged applause,) so that the in-
habitants are freed from all such de-
basing slavery as that of following
" old land-marks." Indeed " old land-
marks are " disloyal" words in the new
Ideal Republic, and subject the traitor
who uses them to instant incarceration
in some one of the numerous bastiles of
freedom. (Applause.) The charm of
these singular roads is, that no one
knows where he is going, nor how soon
he will come to an end ; nor what shall
be his next step. His delight is to feel

that he is treading in paths entirely
new — that nobody ever trod in life be-
fore, and which he himself could not
possibly retrace. What happiness !
to be journeying on roads where one
knows he can never find his way back
again. Such is the perpetual inspira-
tion of the inhabitants of the Ideal
Republic.

The learned Professor sat down amid
the most tremendous applause, nine
times repeated. He spoke just an hour
but we have given all his lecture ver-
batim, considerably more than two-
thirds of the time being occupied in
applause by the audience. The vener-
able Mr. Bryant, President of the Loy-
al Philosophical Society, gave notice
that Professor Hugh Falutin's second
lecture would be delivered on the even-
ing of the sixth of next month, which
announcement caused such an outbreak
of applause from the highly intelli-
gent and elite audience, that it seemed
the whole building would tumble. We
shall favor our readers with reports of
all these very learned and useful lec-
tures*

'Qr-

FOURTEEN.

A thousand smiles are dancing on tliy lip,
Hope, like an angel, sleeps upon thy breast,

And pleasures from their native fountain sip,
While virtue slumbers in its virgin nest.

O, God ! guard thou this holy Eden spot!

With thine own hand throw back the blighting harms ?
Say to the tempter, "hence ! for thou shalt not

Despoil the earth of its divinest charms!"

THE DOWNFALL OF THF. REPUBLIC OF MEXICO.

|Feb,

THE DOWNFALL OF THE REPUBLIC OF MEXICO.

The late news from Mexico indicates
tie virtual cessation of resistance to
the Empire of Maxamilian, and indeed
the constitutional term of Juarez being
about to terminate, there is no longer
any legal opposition to the establish-
ment of the new Empire. This over-
throw of a great American Republic,
comprising some seven millions of peo-
ple, is, on the surface, and according
to the received opinions of the world
one of the most startling and extraor-
dinary events ever witnessed in his"
tory, and were it real, or were the cir.
cumstances really what they seem to
be, one might readily doubt the per-
manence of Democratic institutions on
this continent. And we doubt not that
the believers in, and upholders of, the
old European order, and especially in
view of our own troubles, are exceed-
ingly jubilant over this spectacle of
republican miscarriage, and entirely
confident that men are incapable of
self-government, and that we, too, as
well as the hapless Mexicans, must,
after years of civil war, finally find
peace and shelter in the protecting
arms of monarchy. Indeed we fear
not a few among self-styled Democrats,
having failed to vote down the Aboli-
tionists in the late election, without
any serious attempt to convince the
people that the Abolitionists were
wrong, are also despairing of the po-
pular capacity for self-government, and
some, it is said, are even turning their
eyes to Mexico, as a country likely to
be blessed with a stable government,and
therefore a desirable country in which

to embark their fortunes. But though
there is a downfall of a republic, there
is no downfall of republicanism, for
there never was any, nor can there be
any republicanism among mongrel po-
pulations like those of Mexico, and Cen-
tral America. Some three and a half
centuries ago Hernandez Cortez, at the
head of fifteen hundred Spaniards, in-
vaded and conquered Mexico. They
were the most enterprising, daring, and
hardy men of the time, but their con-
quest of Mexfc:o was achieved without
any very remarkable display of these
qualities. The Mexican, Aztec, Tolteo,
&c, are simply Indians, for the abori-
ginal race of this continent is the same
from Cape Horn to the mouth of the
Columbia River, and the differences be-
tween the northern Hurons and Chip"
pewas, the tribes of the Chickahominy
and the Cherokees of Georgia, the chil-
dren of Anuhac, and Aztecs of Mexico,
and Peruvians, Chilians, &c, are only
those resulting from climate and other
external circumstances, just as Saxons,
Celts, Sclavonians, &c, of the great Cau-
casian family differ from these causes.

The Six Nations were a slight ad-
vance from the wild tribes of the nor-
thern lakes. Powhatan's empire on
the Chickahominy was an advance on
the Six Nations — the Cherokees,
in a still more genial climate, was an-
other advance, and finally the empire
of Montezuma, in the Valley of Mexi-
co, with its delicious climate and ex-
uberant soil, no doubt developed the
utmost capacity of the native mind,
and probably the Aztecs, had been

1865.]

THE DOWNFALL OF THE REPUBLIC OF MEXICO.

stationary for thousands of years prior
to the Spanish invasion. The Cauca-
sian, or white race, is capable of un-
limited progress and indefinite perfect-
ability, not, of course, of any change
in its organic nature, nor anv increase
in its actual mental power, but in its
experience and accumulation of knowl-
edge. All other races are limited with-
in certain boundaries — the Mongol, or
Chinese, nearest to us, are probably
now much as they have been for many
thousand years, and the negro, lowest
in the scale, when isolated, is incapa-
ble of any advance beyond simple and
useless savagery.

The Indian, or aboriginal of this con-
tinent, therefore, with his limited pow-
ers, doubtless, reached many centuries
before the Spanish conquest, the condi-
tion in which the latter found him in
the Valley of Mexico. The instinct of
self-preservation which impelled the
northern tribes to almost continual war,
had modified, and though they could
not be said to have made any progress
towards manufacturing, the Aztecs,
Toltecs, &c., had reached the grade of
cultivators, especially in the great Val-
ley of Mexico. It has been the-fashion
of ignorant and distant writers, like
Prescott, Helps, and others, to repre-
sent the empire of Montezuma as a
great, organized, semi-civilized power,
but in fact it differed only in degree,
and not much in that, from Powhat-
an's empire in Virginia. Like the
northern tribes, they used Hint and
stone for their spear-heads and other
weapons, and made no advance what-
ever in the discovery or working of me-
tals. How unlike this from the fancied
barbarism of the ancient Britons, who,
when invaded by Ciesar, drew vast
chains across the mouths of their riv-

ers. The Spanish historians. Bornal,
Diaz, and others, including Cortcz him-
self, very naturally exaggerated their
exploits, by representing Montezuma as
a great emperor, and his empire, a
mighty power, but in truth the former
was simnly the most impotent Indian
chief in the country, and the latter was
composed of Indian villages, few of
which contained ten thousand people.
The Pyramid of Cholula — a natural
ccrro, or conical hill, common to the
country, was crowned with a temple
to the sun on its summit, and standing
on which Cortez, writing to the Empe-
ror Charles V., declared that from that
point he could see and count twelve
hundred mosques and five hundred tem-
ples in the city of Cholula, lying at the
base of the pyramid. The writer of
this, standing on the same spot, has
looked down on where this magnificent
city with its two hundred thousand
people and twelve hundred mosques
was said to have been, and the green
sward is now as level as a marble floor,
without even an undulation to mark
the site of such suppositious city. The
truth is, the city of Cholula was an In-
dian village, built of adobe or unburn!
brick, with probably not a cabin or
house in it of more than a single story,
and these bricks have long since crum-
bled into their native earth, and left
not even a wreck behind. The Spanish
adventurers, not to put too line a point
on it, were stupendous liars as well as
braggarts, and the European world,
having no means at hand to expose
their absurd statements, nor indeed any
motive or interest in doing so, they
have passed down the current of hisot
ry as real events and actual things,

and respectable writers, like Prescott
and Others, in our day, have accepted

THE 'DOWNFALL OF THE REPUBLIC OF MEXICO.

[Feb.,

these nonsensical stories as bona fide adapted his teachings to the actual ca-
occurrences, and gravely represented pabilities of the native mind, and if he
them as important matters of history. did not bring his convert to his own
Such then, we repeat, was Mexico at level, he civilized and saved him. The
the time of the Spanish conquest, Am- Protestant missionaries have made
erican Indians, and differing only in Christians of the Sandwich Island peo-
degree from our own northern tribes, pie, but the process killed them, while
The conquerors were rewarded, not the Jesuit missionaries of this conti-
only by their vast discoveries of the nent have domesticated and Christian-
precious metals, but the home govern- ized millions of natives, and rendered
merit portioned out the conquered na- them useful and civilized beings as
fives among the Spanish 'soldiery, well as Christians. It is probable that
Large populations and immense dis- the Spanish conquerors would have
tricts of country often passed into the failed, as the Anglo-colonists failed, to
bunds of a single owner, and thus, in save the natives, had it not been for
the densely populated regions, thing's the admirable domesticating processes
substantially remained till the over- of the Catholic Church, and the earnest
throw of the Spanish dominion and the and untiring devotion of the Jesuit
cstablisiiment of the republic. The missionaries, who, adapting- the ma-
"Church," however, more even than chinery of the Church to the inferior
Cortez and his companions, really con- nature and speciiie wants of these peo-
quered the natives, for while the latter pie, saved as well as subdued them,
subdued them by physical forces, the But while the native Spaniard, with
priests conquered by moral forces, and the aid of the Cnurch, thus subdued
domesticated and civilized, and made and governed the native, and for some
them useful as well as Christian beings, two hundred years there was peace,
It is the boast, and indeed the merit of order and prosperity in Mexico, ano-
the Catholic Church, that it is in the ther element was gradually evolved,
highest sense truly Catholic, and adapt- which was finally destined to be the
ed to all phases of human existence — ruin of the country, and is at this mo
to not only all degrees of intelligence, ment the real and only cause of its so-
and all phases of mind in our own race, cial anarchy, confusion and misery. The
but to the specific wants and necessi- native, docile and obedient, is easily go-
ties of the lower races of mankind, verned by the white man, and might be
Thus, while the earnest and devoted in Oregon or the North-West, were the
Protestant missionary in the North de- proper agencies employed, asindeeel, we
manded that the wild Huron, or Chip- now witness in the case of the Pueblo
pewa, should believe as he believed, in Indians in New Mexico. But the
the doctrine of the atonement, justifica- Spanish conquerors, unlike the Anglo-
tion by faith, and other abstractions, colonists, brought few females or wives
simply impossible to the native intel- with them from the Old World, and,
loot, or lie would have nothing to do therefore, formed alliances with the na-
with thorn, the equally devoted but five women. The captain-general-ships
vastly more sensible Jesuit missionary adapted their rules and regulations to

1865.]

THE DOWNFALL OF THE REPUBLIC OF MEXICO.

the specific wants of the native popu-
lation, but following' the old Roman
law' where the offspring takes the
status of the father, the children of the
Spanish fathers and native mothers be-
came Spanish, or what our Abolition-
ists would call " free" people. In our
own southern States this law is re-
versed, and the offspring follows the
statits of the mother, thus preserving
the purity of the blood and the integri-
ty of our own race, whatever may
seem the hardship of compelling the
hybrid offspring or mulatto to fill the
role of the negro. But in Mexico,
where there were few Spanish females,
this hybrid and mongrel element was
rapidly developed, of course, and fol-
lowing the condition of the father they
were classed in the governing' element
and thus, finally, became the disturb-
ing force in the country.

Mongrelism is an abnormalism, or
diseased condition, and when this
monstrous element expanded into some-
thing like a million and a half at the
beginning of this century, the troubles
of Mexico began, and of course these
troubles will continue until mongrel-
ism measurably becomes extinct, and the
cause thus removed. The Creole, or
native, whether pure white or mongrel,
was excluded from office, but other-
wise free and legally separate from
the native or Indian, as well as from
the European white man.

There being about half a million of
native whites, and a million and a half
of 'mongrels, they began to revolt
against the Spanish dominion as early
as 1810, and finally the mongrels, hav-
ing a strong natural affinity with the
Indian element, and thus appealing to
the instinct of race, the Spanish power
was overthrown, and the so-called Re-

public established on its basis. The
revolt was a mongrel movement, though
the Creole whites went with, and in"
deed generally led it. There were,
perhaps, half a million led by Bravo,
Bustenatc, Santa Anna, and others, who
really believed they were fighting for
the same cause as Washington and
Adams, and having control of the re-
volution, they set up a confederate re-
public, or " United States of Mexico,"
modeled- after our own. Ours is not
only the best, but the only natural, le-
gitimate, and permanent government
in Christendom, so long as it is pre-
served as a government of white men ;
and so with the Mexican Republic, it
was perfect, and if it had been confined
to the half million of white people, it
would exist now and forever. But it
included not only a million and a half
of mongrels, but five millions of In-
dians, and even the few negroes of the
coast regions were distorted into " free"
citizens. The result was that it broke
down before it actually went into ope-
ration, and there has been no peace,
order or prosperity since. The vast
mongrel populations of the cities are
always ready for a pronunciamento
whenever any leader offers them a
chance to gratify their natural turbu-
lence and tendency to disorder. The
Spaniard and Mexican, or white man
and Indian, under well defined social
relations, in harmony with their natu-
ral instincts, got on well together, but
when a mighty horde of mongrels, com-
posed of all degrees, from nearly Indian
to almost white, were added, and then
a sprinkling of negroes even were
thrust into the amalgam, of course re-
publicanism, or, in other words, the
same rules and regulations luvanio im-
practicable. If, in Europe, wlior0

THE DOWNFALL OF THE REPUBLIC OF MEXICO.

[Feb.,

though all are whites, and naturally
the same men, artificial causes, for cen-
turies past, render republicanism diffi-
cult, how obvious it becomes that
whites, Indians, and negroes, with vast
hordes of mongrels, must, in the nature
of things, be incapable of supporting a
republican system.

But if the mongrels of Mexico can-
not sustain republican institutions, can
monarchy do anything for them ? Yes,
it can, as a temporary matter, though,
of course, there is no hope ior Mexico
until the disease is removed, or, in other
words, until mongrelism is measurably
extinct, and the old relation between
the Spaniards and Indians is restored.
Monarchy, in our day, is simply ab-
surd, but just such an absurdity as is
proper and in keeping with mongrels.
It is stupid, and indeed criminal, for
white men to set up one of their num-
ber as having a " Divine right" to rule
over them, for God having given them
the same capacities and the same wants,
of course imposes on them the same
rights and the same duties. But there
are now very few white men in Mexi-
co, and Maxamilian, though doubtless
naturally considered, like all those ef-
fete families in Europe, styled royal,
below the average standard of the
race, is naturally above Mexican mong-
rels and native Indians, and therefore
may rule them for a time to their ad-
vantage. Monarchy supports itself by
any amount of fiction and tomfoolery ^
but all this is suited to mongrels and
•inferior races, and if he can only man-
age to keep a standing and compact
European force in the field, the Em-
peror may restrain the disturbing
forces, and even secure a certain kind
of prosperity in Mexico. Of course he
can do nothing towards removing the
evils of tli at country, but he may res-

train the anarchical element, and as it
is rapidly tending to extinction aid
considerably in the final solution -T that
is, the utter extinction of the mongrel
element, and the restoration of the old
normal relations of the Spaniards and
Indians.

The mongrel population of the cities,
with its sterility and low grade of vi-
tality, is rapidly dying out, as well as
the few white people, and isolated
from the rest of the world, no number
of emperors, or Maxamilians, can pre-
vent the restoration of the natives to
the precise condition in which the Spa-
niards found them in the fifteenth cen-
tury. But we cannot permit this col-
lapse into Indianism any more than we
can afford to permit the negroes of San
Domingo to return to their native Afri-
canism.

It is the policy of European govern-
ments to thus build up an impassable
wall against the march of American
Democracy, and indeed, by penning up
our negro population within existing
limits, to bring the blight and savage-
ry of the tropics to the line of the Po-
tomac. And, wonderful indeed, a gi-
gantic war has been carried on, and a
million of human lives have been sacri-
ficed to complete the European policy ;
but it will fail. The horrible madness
of the day cannot last much longer,
and instead of being penned up in front
by the useless negroes of the Islands,
and the miserable mongrels of the
Main Land, Texas will extend her bor-
der to the Sierra Madra, and the Demo-
cracy of the Mississippi Valley will
overflow the Islands south of them,
and restore industry, production, and
civilization to the whole tropical cen-
ter of our great continent.

1865/1

CONSPIRACY IN CONGRESS.

Meantime both Davis and Lincoln
(should recognize the empire in Mexi-
co at once, for it will serve to preserve
order} and, to some extent, prosperity,
while mongrelism is dying* out, and
events are ripening" for the progressive
march of Democracy over the whole
boundless continent.

Nothing can prevent this march — ■
this grand future of American civiliza-
tion, unless, indeed, the Abolitionists
"conquer the rebels," and amalgamate
with their negroes, and thus bring upon

themselves the fate of the Spaniards in
Mexico. But that cannot be. Aboli-
tionism is the twin sister, or rather
would be the mother of even meaner
progeny than Mexican mongrels, and
such a social cataclysis as twenty-five
millions of whites destroying their pos-
terity by amalgamation with four mil-
lions of negroes is not possible, for
whatever the sin and besotted ness of
His creatures, God himself would not
permit such a disfigurement of the fair
face of creation.

CONSPIRACY IN CONGRESS.

The mountain has conceived and
brought forth a mouse — a contemptible,
laughable, abortion of a mouse. The
abolitionizcd Congress, after terrible
labor, has brought forth a resolution
paving the way for the alteration of the
Constitution, for abolishing slavery-
No w. all the company of fools or
knaves who voted for this resolu-
tion have recorded themselves as being
in favor of both of the following pro-
positions :

1. The perpetual dissolution of this
Union, by barring the last avenue left
open for the return of the southern
States.

2. The destruction of the govern-
ment formed by our fathers, by blot-
ting out the sovereignty of the States
on which alone it was founded.

Stripped of all shams and lying dis-
guises, it is simply a proposition to re-
volutionize, overthrow, and destroy
this government. It is a hundred-fold

\vo:sr than all tin; (bllica of secession

combined. If the secessionist is a
traitor, those who voted for this resolu-
tion are double traitors, because they
go for destroying the organic princi-
ple on which our government is based.
The original, inherent, and undelegated
powers of a single State cai*not be le-
gally torn from it, not even by the ac-
tion of all the other States through the
form of altering the Constitution. That
clause of the Constitution ffivinjr a cer-
tain number of States the power of
altering the instrument, docs not, by
any means, give the majority the right
to overthrow the vested rights or to
destroy the organic being of a State
The vote of the majority to alter the
Constitution cannot touch the minor-
ity in any matters that were not dele-
gated in the instrument under which
the alteration claims to be made. The
reserved, or undelegated, rights of the
States are not subject to any jurisdic-
tion which the States do not themselves
sanction. Suppose that, under the

CONSPIRACY IN CONGRESS,

[Feb., I865J

plea of altering the Constitution three-
quarters of the States should vote to
reduce all the people of the other quar-
ter to a state of vassalage — would that
be Ian ! Suppose that, under the style
and title of altering the Constitution,
three-quarters should vote that they
would appropriate to themselves all
the wives and daughters of the other
quarter, would not the quarter say to
the three quarters, " Show us your
authority ! Where in that instrument
did we delegate to anybody those sacred
matters ? They were never subjects of
Federal legislation, and they can never
be subjects of constitutional amendments.
For this purpose you may amend the
Constitution until your bodies are rotten
and your souls damned; we shall despise
and defy you! What State, what
husband, what brother, would not talk

after this strong fashion ? No, we will
not believe that there can be such a
fool in Congress as one who really
thinks that, under the plea of altering
the Constitution, the organic and un-
transferable rights of States can be le-
gally overthrown. We can no more
alter the Constitution to rob States of
their " slaves," than we can to kidnap
their wives and daughters. We find it
much easier to believe that those who
propose this kind of thing are knaves}
than to let them off under the more
charitable conclusion that they are
idiots. We leave it to those apostate
Democrats who advocated this resolu-
tion to settle it with their constituents
as best they can, whether they have
been bribed outright or lost their
senses.

WE NE'ER SHALL MEET.

Dearest no, wc ne'er snail meet,
'Tis well that we should sever ;

Eyes so bright and lips so sweet
Are not for me — ah, never !

EDITOR'S TABLE.

—We notice, in two of our Democratic ex-
changes, reference to the New York World a3
a " Democratic paper." When did an article
ever appear in that paper which advocated
the distinctive doctrines of Democracy ? It
13 but a few weeks since it editorially de-
nounced Madison and Jefferson, the fathers of
the Democratic party, as having inoculated
the American mind with incipient treason in
relation to the theory of our government.—
We have yet to see the first article in the edi-
torials of the World giving evidence of hav-
ing been written by a Democrat. Mr. Cham-
berlain, the only man editorially connected
with that paper, so far as we know, who writes
at all respectably on political subjects, is a
good scholar and a fine writer, one of the
ablest connected with the press of this city.
But he is not a Democrat, and never pretend-
ed to be. It is but just to say that there is
hardly a newspaper in the country which
publishes more articles in direct conflict with
the principles of Democracy than the World.
It has a certain amount of pungent opposi
tion to the Administration. But Democracy
dcea not consist in mere opposition to the
Administration. It is a grand philosophy of
government which has never been deviated
from by the party bearing its name, from the
establishment of the Union down to the be-
ginning of this war. The only Democratic
daily published in this city is the News,
which is truly and thoroughly Dsmocratic, and
is really one of the very ablest and most en-
terprising dailies published in the United
States. It 13 not only published with remark-
able energy, bat it is edited with a dignity
and a camion in its assertion of facts, which
render it quite a model newspaper. And,
besides, it has the merit of having bravely
battled for Democracy when almost every
Other daily in the country struck its colors,
and surrendered under the thr. ats of despot-
ism, or to the solicitations of a shallow and
treacherous policy.

— A Frenchman and an Kalian are disput-
ing In London about the merits ot their res-

pective languages in poetical composition. —
We cannot imagine how the Frenchman can
make out his case. . In the first place, the
Italian language tolerates the hiatus, a great
facility in writing poetry, which is entirely
proscribed by the French. Then all the Italian
words terminating in a, e, i, o, give it twenty
times the stock of rhymes to the French. And
the Italian may dispense wit i rhyme alto-
gether. The Muse of Italy dances at liberty, that
of France in chains. It takes a great genius
to write good poetry in French. Lesser tal-
lent may succeed respectably in Italian. Vol-
taire used to say it was easier to compose a
hundred verses in Italian than ten in French.

— A cotemporary thinks "the clergy have
been growing more and more impudent for a
hundred years." Taey were pretty impudent
in ancient times. We remember that Vol-
taire, in a letter to the Duke De La Valiere,
makes the following quotation from apib-
lished sermon by a clergyman of the name
'of Maillard — he was addressing his lan-
guage to the counsellcrs wives who wore * m-
broidery : — "You say that you are clad ac-
cording to your conditions ; all the deviis in
hell fly away with your conditions, and you,
too, my ladies. You will say to me perhaps,
"our husbands do not give us this gorgeous
apparel, we earn it by the labor of our bodies ;
thirty thousand devils fly away with the la-
bor of your bodies, my ladies.'' This, we
should say, wras necrly a match for the im-
pudence of such modern belligerents in the
pulpit as Beccher, and Bellows, and Tyng,
and a host of other Jack-pudding preachers
of the times.

The New York Daily Times labors, through
a column and a quarter of painful inanity, to
satisfy itself that, under no circumstances
would any European government accept an
alliance with the South. The idea is, that the
world, and all the governments there >f, are
trembling in their boots at the t< rror o( our
name. If our strength wero equal to our in-
solent vanity, the world mhjjht well tremble; but

EDITOR S TABLE.

[Feb,

as it is not, is it worth while to make asses of
ourselves by any longer boasting, after every
respectable nation in Europe has learned to
laugh at us or despise us ? This Administra-
tion has plunged a once feared and honored
name down to the very bottom of contempt
and shame. That name will be brought up
again ; but it will be after the party now in
power is laid low in the dust.

— We are on the receipt of numbers of anx-
ious letters asking our " real opinion" as to
when the war will end ? We have no idea —
because we do not know how long the people
will sutler themselves to be duped by a cabal
of de-igning rascals. We cannot tell when
the voice of wisdom and patriotism will be
able to overcome the bellowings of perverse
fanatics.. We do not know how long a scoun-
drelly gambler's check of I. 0. U. will pass
for money. We have no idea how strong the
ass' back is. We have ceased to guess about
it. We art clear only on one point, and that
is, that, when the end does come, the party
which has carried on this war will want the
mountains to fall upon them to hide them
from the wrath of the people.

— Nero burnt Rome and laid the blame to
the Christians, and had them punished for*
bis crime — so Tacitus tells us. Some he
dressed in the skins of wild beasts, and then
set ferocious dogs upon them to tear them to
pieces. Ochers he crucified. Others he dressed
in the tunica molesta, a garment saturated
with pitch,- and placing them at different
points, set fire to them to light the city by night.
The Loyal Leaguer.-*, it is said, attempted
to set fire to New York, that they might lay
the blame to the southerners residing in the
city, but being poor chemists they failed in
everything, except in making a great phos-
phorescent smoke. So far as they went, they
imitated Nero to the best of their capacity.

—The Abbe Tilladet once wrote to a friend:
"As soon as any thing is printed, though
you have not read it, lay a wager it is not
true ; I will go you halves, and it will make
my fortune." In the same way we have
learned to treat all " the government" tele-
graphic despatches. To economize time we
pronounce them all lies, and give ours* If no
further trouble about them. If anybody will
w. ger they are truths, take them as ihey run,

we should like to enter into the business of
betting against him as a speculation.

—The papers announce that "several of
our painters are engaged on pictures illustra-
ting the war." It requires little sense, and
still less genius to do that. A pyramid of
bones and sculls will do it. But we do not
believe that there is a single artist of genius
in our country who is such a fool as to em-
ploy his pencil on a subject so unclassicai,
and which must evidently, in a very short
time, be hateful to everybody. We will, how-
ever, suggest a subject, of which an artist of
genius might make a great picture, viz., that
of the brutal god Mars cutting the throat of
Minerva, the goddess of peace, literature and
art. W e are not aware that any of the great
masters have made such a picture, and yet we
marvel that they have not. It is a splendid
theme. Minerva should be surprised in the
midst of the beautiful emblems of the arts of
peace ; while Mars, in the act of committing
the murder, should be attended by dogs,
wolves, vultures, and by his sister JBell>,?ia,
with her bloody whip, and by his priests, the
horrible Salii. The artist will find excellent
likenesses of the latter already drawn in the
faces of Beech er, Tyng, Cheever, Bellows,
Vinton and Bishop Potter, of Pennsylvania,
If any artist will produce a picture doing jus-
tice to this subject, we will engage he shall
sell it for $3,000. This offer is made in ear-
nest. Thank our exchanges to copy.

— Beecher, in one of his flights, declares
that he "carries the church in his own
breast." The rattler probably thinks his head
is the steeple, and his tongue the clapper of
a bell designed to wear out the ears of the
people witu its senseless ding-dong.

— A rich idiot, a possessor of enormous
gains, plundered from the public treasury,
pronounces this "the golden age of Ameri-
ca." How, pray, can it be the golden age,
when gold is as scarce as white crows ? This,
my poor idiot, is the age of shmjjlasters and
rascals. E *ery age which becomes inordi-
nately devoted to the pursuits of gain, is an.
age of rascals. Horace imputes the decay of
Roman poetry to the love of gain. Longinus
atfd Quintiliaa account in the same way for
the decay of eloquence, Galen of physic, Te-
tronius of pointing, and Pliny of the whole

1865.]

editor's table.

circle of liberal arts. This wild spirit of gain
was always the foe of both public and private
morale, and of every department of the re-
fined arts. It has everywhere been the at-
tendant of rascality ai d foolishness. The
" Golden Age" was an age of great men, of
poets, philosophers, historians, orators, and
men of genius. It bore no likeness to this
age of shoddy, negro-worshippers, shinplas-
ters and fools.

— A cotemporary thinks we are a little hard
upon the clergy ? Upon what clergy ? Not
uj on the true ministry of Christ — not upon
the preachers of the blessed gospel of peace
and good will among men — but upon the in-
solent and brazen counterfeits of that holy
office. Clerical wretches, who represent the
most merciful God to be of the same charac-
ter as the heathen deities, whose altars were
gorged with blood, and who, being images of
devils themselves, delighted in the destruction
r f men. It is because these blaspheming im-
postors are false to the holy religion they pro-
fess, that we despise and denounce them.

— "It smells of phosphorus," is anew say-
ing in our language, which signifies anything
that is a bald, impudent and shallow cheat.
For instance, if some notorious gasser and
liar is belching his wares at the corners of tie
street, the spectator gives him the go-by,
with an indifferent, " 0 he smells of phospho-
rus." We have a friend who has ceased to
speak of the Administration, except to declare
that "it smells of phosphorus." Poor phos-
phorus has been brought to a most disgrace-
ful end.

— It is said that among the reasons for Ben.
Butler's disgrace is that of disobeying the
commands of his superiors. That should
hardly be deemed an olfence, because, it is in
perfect keeping with the spirit of the times.
Every body i3 disobeying orders, and none
more so thah the President himself. The
Constitution* is his superior, his commander
in-chief, and yet in how many hundreds of
instances has he disobeyed it! On the whole
we rather think Ben. Butler wag right in doing
just about as he had a mind to, as that is the
rule of the President, Congress, the judge.:,
provost marshals, and Generals. All are go-

* Constitution— an obsolete wonl, once used In tins
country.

ing it on their own hook, in utter contempt
of law, and disregard of the great Comman-
der-in Chief, the Constitution. Poor Ben.
Butler is, we think, a victim.

— Gen. Banks has laid a document before
the Senate, in which he speaks of "the ap-
palling mortality" among the negroes in
Louisiana. His figures show that about
300,000 of them have fallen victims to
Northern philanthropy. Think of that ye
Puritan wretches ! In a single State, Lincoln
has freed three hundred thousand poor ne-
groes to death 1 We suppose it to be safe to
say that this administration has, in If ss than
four years, slaughtered a million of white
men, and a million of blacks. Neither God
nor men can show mercy to the Puritan
scoundrels who have done this deed! Do
they not deserve to be execrated here, and
damned hereafter? For our own part, we
have taught our soul to abhor them, and we
mean to teach our children to do the same.

— Mr. Lincoln's Senate (no longer the Sen-
ate of the States) has passed a resolution
freeing the wives and children of slaves en-
listed or conscripted into the army. This
treats Kentucky, Delaware, and Missouri very
handsomely. The Federal Government first
seizes the slaves for the army, and then frees
their wives and children. Is there such an
arrant fool in the country as to believe that
the Federal Government has any right to pass
such an act. If it can do that, there is no
property in a State which the Federal Govern-
ment may not take from its owners. The
State that submits to such a wrong is simply
" wiped out." That is just about the position
of all the northern States, where provost
marshals sit in the seats of judges, and limi-
tary commissioners in the place of jurors.
Poor humiliated, cowardly, wiped out States!

—The World treats its "intelligent" read-
ers to such delicious tit bits of news as the
following : " Residents of Mobile desirous of
its capture by our forces." Such paragraphs
are a great compliment to the patrons of a
paper, showing that a very exalted idea is
entertained of their intelligence.

A deluded mortal writes us : "I am still a
Democrat, but I believe the war must l>o
carried on to restore the Union.*' We look
upon Democrats who believe that lighting

EDITORS TABLE.

[Feb., 13G5.J

can save the Union with just about the eom-
misseration that we should witness the fruit-
less toil of the hapless Danaides, who were
condemned by Jupiter to till a tub, full of
holes, with water, in the infernal regions.

— A divine poet once asked the Almighty
" What is man ?" We have often attempted
to a nswer this question to ourself, but al-
ways differently, according to the varying
philosophical mood of our own mind. At
this disheartened moment, we see him as a
statue of dust kneaded with tears, moved by
art engine of restless passions, he knows not
.whither.

— A religious exchange attributes all the
cruelties of this war to Adam's fall. We are
prepared to believe that human nature got a
terrible bruise in Adam's fall, but to lay all
the abominations of this war to poor old Fur-
ther Adam, it strikes us, is laying it a little
too thick upon him. We are more inclined
to sadd'e Father Abraham with the whole
thing.

— An organ of "War Democracy" cries out
to Mr. Lincoln against an unjust quota in
the conscription. Even so did another ass,
in ancient times, cry out against the loads of
his master, saying, "am I not thine own
ass?" If our "War Democrat", boldly put
this question to Mr. Lincoln, his excellency,
unless he is an awful liar, will frankly an-
swer "yes."

— At last we have a genuine voice from
Philadelphia — a true Democratic voice from
that city where Democracy has been, through
sheer cowardice, playing fiddle to the big
base of Lincoln's war. Edward Ingersoll,
Esq., delivered a speech at the Key Stone
Club dinner, which for ability and manhood
has hardly been equalled in this country in
modern days. It rings out clear, loud and
startling as a fire-bell at midnight. It ou lit
to rouse the sluggish Democracy, not only of
Pennsylvania, but of the whole country. The
following lines are a specimen of the spirit
of the whole address : "Sir, the blood of Abo-
litionism will cement the Union of the States, and
il is the only earthly remedy for our present ill-;.'''

— An "indignant female," or crazy one, or
one of whom less merciful things may be
said, who inflicts upon the public an uncom-
putable amount of fustian and nonsense un-

der and OAer the name of Gail flamilinn, is
one of the luminaries of the Atlantic Monthly.
In one of her late performances in that; ma-
gazine, she tells \he ought-to-be astounded
world that " turbulence and violence, awed
by the suprume majesty of a resolute nation,
shrunk away and hid their shame from the
indignant day." It was, no doubt, a good
thing for turbulence that it got out of the
way of the "indignant day" in time to save
its bacon ; but it would be a still better thing
for American literature if an indignant pub-
lic opinion would drive the magazines which
send forth such insufferable twaddle, out of
existence.

— Speaking of the propriety of introducing
a resolution in Congress to raise the salary
of the members of the cabinet, Mr. Seward
isrepoitedas saying: "We must somehow
live." We confess that we do not see any ne-
cessity for it.

— One of Gen. Butler's lackey letter-writ-
ers, a rascally toady who follows his fortunes
to bespatter him with undeserved praise,
says that "the general often confesses that
he lies under great obligations to the candid
portion of the press." Of course he lies,
wherever he is, whether he is under obliga-
tions or under something else.

— William Lloyd Garrison, who, according
to some honest Abolitionists, has been feed
in the interest oi the Administration, says :
"Mr. L ncoln's name will be illustrious with
posterity." We think so too ; that the lustre
of his name will be very ill with posterity.

—Sumner has a great eulogist in a certain
wandering female scold and lecturer ; she
says : " his name ought to be engraved in
living stone." Would it not be better for his
country that it were engraved on a dead one ?

— A Washington letter-writer thinks that
the next Congress ought to confer some new
title on Gen. Grant. How will the D>,p2 of
Richmond do '? ■

—The best and cheapest pen iii the world
is a good, gold pen. It costs more at first
than a steel pen, but it will last for years and
years. It does not corrode ; is always in or-
der, and writes with equal ease and facility.
The American Gold Company is now furnish-
ing pens of this kind which are fully war-
ranted.

A MONTHLY JOURNAL, DEVOTED TO THE PRINCIPLES OF 177G AND 1787.

VOLUME III. — MARCH, 1865. — No. III.

OUR COLONIAL AND STATE UNIONS.

A brief review of the several Unions
which have been formed between these
States at different times, might, per-
haps, help the now completely befog-
ged and deluded people to a little
better understanding" of the nature of
the present Federal Government. If
is a painful thing to say, but it is ap-
parently true, that a great majority of
even the Members of Congress are
totally ignorant of the character of
the Federal Union. If their ignorance
may not be put in in abatement of cen-
sure, they deserve hanging as traitors
of the deepest dye. A sketch of the
various Unions which have existed,
between these colonial and State sov-
eignties, will lay bare the principle of
confederation on which all have been
based.

1. The earTies't colonial Union was
formed between the New England co-
lonies, in 1643. It was called, " The
United Colonics of New England," and
a "Perpetual league of friendship and
amity? It was designed as a general

was called. The Puritans held the
Dutch in the greatest contempt,, as an
infidel and ungodly people ; the simple
ground of such a feeling being:, that
the Dutch were not of the Puritan
faith. This New England Union had
provisions for enlargement, by receiv-
ing- other English colonics into its em-
brace. But it was never enlarged.
Limited as its members were, it still
took five years to perfect it ; such was
the jealousy of each in relation to its
perfect independence of the other colo-
nies. The Union was what its name
declared, a league, a purely federative
organization, in which each colony re-
tained unimpaired its internal sepa-
rateness, and independence of the rest.
The Rhoed Island colony was never
permitted to join this New England
Union. It was kept out by the influ-
ence of Massachusetts, because those
people were dissenters from the Puri-
tan religion. This Union acknowledg-
ed no general government, except
" Commissioners/' who regulated the
defense against 1 lit; Indians of their affairs of the common organization.

own section, and the Dutch of New
Amsterdam, as the New York colony

But under the leading spirit of Massa-
chusetts, even these "Commissioners"

OUR COLONIAL AND STATE UNIONS.

[March.

soon began to assume powers not be-
longing to them by the articles of the
compact ; until, at last, their usurpa-
tions were so great that a majority of
the colonies caused the explosion of
the Union in 1673. Thus ended the
first "perpetual Union," established
among the American colonies, after a
short and feverish life of thirty years.
2. The next trial for a Unipn
between the colonies was made in
IG90 ; when Massachusetts addressed
a poposition to all the colonies, as far
South as Maryland, to meet in conven-
tion at New York, for the purpose of
affecting some combination, or union,
for the general safety and defense. No
delegates, however, attended this con-,
vention, except from New York, Con-
necticut, and Massachusetts. The only
progress towards a Union, was an
agreement between the colonies repre-
sented to furnish each its share of
troops for the invasion of Canada. Six
years later, viz., in 1696, New York
and Massachusetts made a more de-
cided effort to effect some kind of
Union by which all the colonies might
be induced to contribute their share
towards the general safety and de-
fense. No closer Union was proposed,
because it was known that it could
not succeed. This convention sug-
gested that a Captain-General should
be appointed by the king, with power
to call out the colonial militia in any
emergency which the common defense
might demand. But the colonies were
not prepared to accept such a proposi-
tion. Gov. Peim, of Pennsylvania, sug-
gested a colonial Congress of twenty
members, to be elected annually by
the colonial assemblies, with a presi-
dent, who should be appointed by the
.king, with power, in time of war, to

provide for the general defense, and,
in time of peace, to regulate commerce,
and superintend all such matters as
concerned the general interests of the
colonies. But the prejudice against any
sort of colonial Union was too strong,
and nothing came of all this prolonged
effort, except the establishment of
Courts of Admiralty among the colo-
nial Governments. Even this slight
approximation to colonial Union was
bitterly opposed by some of the colo-
nies.

3. In 1*153, when the French were
making raids upon the soil of Pennsyl-
vania, and Virginia, and all along the
banks of the Ohio River, it was found
necessary to devise some plan to repel
the invaders. Lord Holderness ad-
dressed a letter to all the colonies,
proposing a meeting at Albany of
delegates from the several assemblies,
for the purpose of renewing the treaty
with the Indians, so as to obtain their
assistance in the conflict which was
too evidently approaching. The meet-
ing took place in June, H54, at which,
however, there were no delegates ex-
cept from New York, Pennsylvania,
Maryland, and the four New England
colonies. At this convention, after
the treaty with the Six Nations had
been discussed, a proposition was in-
troduced for a Union of all the colonies
for self defense. A committee of one
from each colony was appointed to
draft a plan for such a Union. Dr.
Franklin suggested a Grand Council
of forty-eight members — six from Penn-
sylvania, seven from Massachusetts,
seven from Virginia, five from Connec-
ticut, four from New York, four from
Maryland, two from each of the Caro-
linas, three from New Jersey, two
from New Hampshire, and two from

1865.]

OUR COLONIAL AND STATE UNIONS.

■Rhode Island. This Council was to
, have power to arrange colonial de-
fenses, apportion between the colonies
the quotas of men and money, &c, &c ;
the head of the Council to be appoint-
ed by the king, under the title of Pre-
sident-General, with a veto power. The
colonial assemblies promptly rejected
this plan, on the ground that it gave
two much power to the crown. The
following year, 1165, a convention was
called at New York, for the purpose of
organizing some united action against
the Stamp Act. This convention did
nothing but to make a " Declaration of
Rights and Grievances," and after a
session of three weeks adjourned.

Thus matters dragged on for ten
years longer, the colonies evincing an
almost unconquerable repugnance to
any sort of political Union with each
other, until the increasing exactions of
the crown caused a grand convention
of all at Philadelphia, on the 10th of
May IT 75, which effected a Union of
all the colonics under the following
style and title :

" Articles of Confederation and Perpetual
Union, hntered into by the Delegates
of the several colonies, &c , in general
Congress met at Philadelphia, May 10th
177o.

Article 1st. The name of this Confede-
racy shall henceforth be the United Colonies
of North America.

Art. 2d. The United Colonies hereby sev-
erally enter into a firm league of friendship
with each other, binding themselves and
their posterity, for their common defense
against their enemies, for the securities of
their liberties and properties, the safety of
their persona and families, and their mutual
general welfare.

Art. 3d. That each colony shall enjoy and
retain as much as it may think lit of it own
present laws, customs, rights, privileges, ami
peculiar jurisdiction, within its own limits ;
uud may amend its own Constitution as shall

seem best to its own Assembly or Conten-
tion.

* * •. * * *

Art. 13th. These artic!es shall be pro-
posed to the several Provincial Conventions
or Assemblies, to be by them considered ;
and if approved they are advised to empower
their delegates to ratify the same in the en-
suing Congress ; after which the union there-
by established is to continue firm till the
terms of reconciliation proposed by the last
Congress to the lung are agreed to ; 'till re-
paration is made for the injury done to Bos-
ton, by shutting up its port ; for burning
Charleston ; and for the expense of this un-
just war ; and until the British troops are
withdrawn from America. On the arrival of
these events the Colonies are \o return
to their former' connection and friend-
ship with Great Britain ; but on failure
thereof, this Confederation is to be per-
petual."

This Confederacy of 1775, though
the second Colonial Union., reckoning'
the early Union of the New England
colonies, was the first accomplished
Union embracing all the American
colonies. That of 1766 hardly amount-
ing- to a Union. Like the " perpetual
Union" of the New England colonies,
it was of short duration, lasting only
three years. It was under tin's Union
that Gen. Washington was appointed
Commander-in-Chief of the armies of
the United States. The name of the
Confederacy was changed from " 6yo/o-
nies" to "States" by resolution of Con-
gress, on the 2d of July, 1776. The
Congress of this Union, owing to the
fortunes of war and other causes, was
of a somewhat migratory character.
In August 1770 it met at Philadelphia,
It adjourned to meet at Baltimore on
the 20th of December. From Balti-
more it adjourned to meet at Philadel-
phia on the 12th of March. From
Philadelphia it withdrew to Lancaster,
thence to Yorktown, then back to f'hi-

100

OUR COLONIAL AND STATE UNIONS.

March,

ladelphia, thence to Princeton, New
Jersey.

The nature of this Union is seen in
its title. It is called a " Confederacy
of United Colonies" and a " Firm
League of Friendship P The word con-
federacy, or federal, (from the Latin
foedus,) signifies a league or covenant,
and is commonly applied to contracts
between sovereigns. In this instance
it was a simple compact between sover-
eign colonies ; for by this very act of
federation the colonies asserted their
sovereignty or right over the things
agreed upon. Before they established
the confederacy or Union, they were
entirely independent of each other, and
they were no less so afterwards, ex-
cept in the few matters of external de-
fense and common interests, in which
the articles of Union bound them to
act in concert. It was " a league of
friendship f and it was no more.

4. Notwithstanding the Union of
1775 was declared "perpetual," it was
broken up by the parties which formed
it in the second year of Independence,
or in about three years after its estab-
lishment. On the 15th of November,
1777, the Congress formed new arti-
cles of confederation ; and, by adopt-
ing these new articles, the several
colonies seceded from the general Go-
vernment they had formed less than
three years before, in the following
order : " New Hampshire, Massachu-
setts, Connecticut, Rhode Island, New
York, Pennsysvania, Virginia and
South Carolina, on July 9th, 1773 ;
North Carolina on July 21st, Georgia
on July 24th, New Jersey on Novem-
ber 26th, Delaware on May 5th, 1779 :
and Maryland on March 1st, 1781."
The progress of secession from this
confederation, from the time when the

first State ratified the new articles of
Union, until the last ratified, embraced
a period of nearly three years. In the
first place, eight States seceded from
the old into the new compact, and left
five remaining. Then one went out.
Then another. In four months another.
In six months another. In two years
afterwards the last. That was the end
of the " Perpetual Union,7' established
in 1775.

The title of the new Union, and the
three first articles of the instrument of
re-confederation, leave no doubts as to
its objects and character :

" Articles op Confederation and Pekpetual
Union between the States op New Hamp-
shire, Massachusetts Bay, Ehode Is-
land AND PROVIDENCE PLANTATIONS, CON-
NECTICUT, New Yoek, New Jersey, Penn-
sylvania, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia,
Nobth Carolina, South Carolina and
Georgia.
Article I. The style of this Confederacy
shall be The United States of America.

Art. II. Each State retains its sovereignty,
freedom and independence, and every power,
jurisdiction and rights, which is not by this
confederation expressly delegated to the
Uuited States in Congress assembled.

Art. III. The said States hereby severally
enter into a firm league of friendship with
each other for their common defense, the
security of their liberties, and their mutual
and general welfare, binding themselves to
assist each other against ad force offered to,
or attacks made upon them, or any of them,
on account of religion, soverignty, trade, or
any other pretence whatever. ''.

The articles of this new Union differ
from those of the former only in their
minuteness and completeness. They
were only designed to make the Union
between these American sovereignties
more complete. The preserved or per-
petual sovereignty of each State is
affirmed in terms. Sovereign is a
French word, (souverain,) which signi-

1865.]

OUR COLONIAL AND STATE UNIONS.

101

fies the first or supreme power of an
independent state or kingdom.

But it was soon apparent that even
these second articles of confederation
were defective in some points of vital
importance to the common interests.

is in no manner changed — they are
still "delegated" or "granted" powers.
The source of sovereignty is not in
the smallest particular altered, but the
agency of that sovereignty is enlarg-
ed ; not for the acrandizement and

There was a heavy debt, incurred by glory of the Federal Government, but
the war of Independence, which the for the better security of the State sover-
articles of confederation gave the Con- eigntics. The preamble to the Consti-
gress no adequate power of providing tution states its object to be "to form
for. The next year after peace with a more perfect union," "ensure do-
England, viz., in '1784, the army of the mestic tranquility," and to "secure
United States was reduced to 80 sol- the blessings of liberty to ourselves

dicrs, and the federal Congress had no
means of paying even these. Speak-
ing of these embarrassments, Mr.
Madison says, " The frail and tottering
edifice was ready to fall upon our
heads, and crush us beneath its ruins."
In order to relieve the country from
these difficulties", Virginia proposed a
convension of all the States, to devise
some plan of more effective co-opera-
tion. Such a convention was called to
meet at Annapolis, September, 1786.
Only five States attended. But this
small number made a strong appeal
for a general convention which should
try to so alter and amend the articles
of compact as to give the general Go-
vernment the power to raise means,
and to become a more efficient aircnt
of the general good. Finally this call
was responded to by all the States, ex-
cept Rhode Island, and the convention
met at Philadelphia, May 25th, 1787,
and closed its labors by framing our
present Constitution, on the 17th of
September, having been in session a
little less than four months.

Tin's Constitution differs from the
two previous constitutions between the
Stales only in the number and extent
of powers intrusted (<> the Federal Go-
vernment. The character of the powers

and our posterity." The object of this
third constitution is precisely the same
as the two former. The relations of
the States to each other, and to the
Federal Government, were exactly
what they were under the constitu-
tions of 1775 and of 1777.

It is true that there was a small
minority, of the members of the con-
vention that framed the constitution
who, in the lanGrua^e of Luther Mar-
tin's report of the Secret Debates,
"wished to abolish and annihilate all
State Governments, and to bring for-
ward one general Government of a
monarchical nature." Mr. Martin's re-
port proceeds to say, that these ene-
mies of State governments and friends
of monarchy, "knowing that they were
too weak in numbers openly to bring-
forward their system, and conscious
also that the people of America would
reject it if proposed/' &c, as every
one knows they would have done.
Had the new constitution impaired, or
in the least degree endangered the
sovereignly -of the States, it never
would have been ratified by a single
Stat.'.

This last constitution was. in one
respect, a clear violation el' the most
solemn agreement entered into l>y all

102

OUR COLONIAL AND STATE UNIONS.

[March,

the States in the articles of the second
confederation, in 1777. The last arti-
cle of that compact is as follows :

Aet. 13. * * * The articles of this con-
federation shall be inviolably observed by
every State, and the Union shall be perpet-
ual : nor shall any alteration be made in any
of them, unless such alteration be agreed to
in a Congress of the United States, and after-
wards confirmed by the legislature of every
Slate."

Counting; the early New England
confederacy, there have been two colo-
nial Unions, and two independent
State Unions, to sa}' nothing" of the
colonial combinations of 1698 and
1*154, and three of these Unions were
designed and declared to be " per-
petual."

That of New England, in 1643, was
designated in the articles of the Union,
" a perpetual league." It lasted 30
years. That of 1778, or if we reckon
from the time of its adoption by all
the States, of 1781, declared that,
"The union shall be perpetual." It
lasted 3 years. Cut, it is a remark-
able fact, that the constitution of the
Fourth, or the present Federal Union,
formed in 1787, does not claim, in
terms, to be " perpetual." The pre-
amble simply calls it " a more perfect
Union." The framers of this Constitu-
tion had witnessed the dissolution of
two "perpetual Unions" in less than
twelve years, and they were familiar
with the dissolution of a third " per-
petual Union" of an earlier date — facts
which may have influenced them to
leave this word "perpetual" out of the

instrument they were forming. And,
besides, the debates in the Federal
Convention clearly prove that, how-
ever earnestly all wished the Union to
be perpetual, there was a wide spread
fear that it wTould not be so. It is
known that Washington had very
grave doubts on the subject. So had
Hamilton. So had Randolph, Madison,
and a great number of the leading
statesmen of that time. So strong
were the doubts of, Luther Martin, that
in his report of the Convention, he
said, " By the principles of the Ameri-
can revolution, arbitrary power may
and ought to be resisted, even by arms
if necessary. The time may come,
when it shall be the duty of a State,
in order to preserve itself from the
oppression of the general Government,
to have recourse to the sword." If
there was one thing more fixed in the
determination of all the States than
any other, it was that, under no cir-
cumstances, would they ever surrender
the least fraction of their sovereign
and independent rights. It is a most
fortunate thing for the head of Abra-
ham Lincoln, and his band of conspira-
tors, that the men of this generation
are made of less resolute and virtuous
stuff. Had the deeds done by this ad-
ministration been committed under the
administration of Washington, John
Adams, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe,
John Quincy Adams or Jackson, the
perpetrators would have expiated their
crimes upon the gallows.

1865.]

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

10:

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.
A NOVEL.

BY THOMAS DUNN ENGLISII.

CHAPTER V.— (Continued.)

" But," I said, " I have only the pri-
vilege of the library, and doubt if that
permission extends to any other part of
the castle."

"Oh, the north gallery is a show-
room ?"

"But the Countess may want you."

" No, she always keeps herself alone
for an hour or so after she meets a
stranger."

I was curious to see the portrait,
and so, without farther objections, I
accompanied the woman, who told me
that her name was Gifford. She led
me to the north gallery, and there
pointed out the portrait.

Certainly the features on the canvass
and my own were strikingly alike — at
least as far as the upper part of the
face went ; but the mouth in the por-
trait was broader, and the chin heavier
and squarer than mine.

The portrait was a full length like-
ness of a man apparently about twen-
ty-five. The costume was oriental, but
of what particular country in the east
I could not say.

"You say this was a pirate," I ask-
ed, after I had looked at it well.

"The butler, who served the former
earl, says so," answered she. "Fur
my part, I know nothing about it. He
was a foreigner of some kind. My
lord sent it home from abroad, when
he was a young man. Before ho wont
away for the last time he would stand

before the picture for hours, or rather
he would walk the gallery for hours,
and stop every now and then before
the picture, and look at it. He did not
appear to be fond of the man it was
like, either. He would scowl at it in
a way that was fearful. The servants
say" — and here she looked around cau-
tiously— " that every year, on the day
my lord was born — that is the late
earl — the picture walks."

I laughed.

"It is silly, I know," she said, " but
there is one thing quite certain ; I saw
that fall once — whether a ghost or alive,
I don't know. It was the year before
my lord came back the last time. [
had to cross the gallery late at night.
I h id a candle in my hand, and stopped
to look at the picture as I passed. I
went on, after I had taken a look, and
just as I reached yonder door, which
was my lord's chamber, it opened. As
the door was kept locked always dur-
ing my lord's absence, it startled mo a
deal. I turned to look, and saw a fig-
ure wrapped in a dark cloak. My light
fell on the face."

" Well ?" said I, for she paused.

"It was the face of the pirturo,"
said she. "I could not be mistaken.
I dropped the light and ran. The house
was alarmed, and when all gathered
there, the door was found locked. It

was opened, and as no trace could bo
found of any one, they all said 1 dream

104

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

[March,

ed the matter."

" What did the earl say to it when
lie came back ?"

" He never knew it. My lady, his
mother, forbade any of us to tell him.
But I must go, lest my lady want me.
You do look like the picture — very
much — especially that look from the
eyes."

And Gilford left me alone.

I looked a little while longer at the
portrait, and then returned to the ii"
brary, where I sat down, and began
to think. According to Guttenberg,
the man who gave me in his charge
was a foreigner. Could this be he ?
His likeness to me, too ! Could he
have been my father ? How was I to
learn more of this strange portrait,
and the name of the original ? While
I was engaged in these reflections, the
steward came in to replace the .book he
had taken away.

"Has the Countess Dowager been
here since V

" No," I replied, " but her attendant
has."

"Ah!" he ejaculated. " A strange
creature is Gilford — a woman of strong
prejudices. I have had to talk sharply
to GifTord, once or twice, and she don't
like me much."

" Mr. Osborne," I said, looking him
full in the face, " there is a portrait in
the gallery yonder, which is said to be
that of a pirate. May I ask who he
was ?"

"Did you see it ?"

picked up abroad by the late earl, I
believe, at a sale somewhere on the
continent. It is a very odd picture,
but is said to be a very good piece of
painting."

" The likeness to me, then, would ap-
pear to be accidental, after all ?"

"Entirely so."

I did not believe him, and for a plain
reason. The gay cloak or robe on the
picture was fastened by a belt, clasped
by turquoises ; the striped jacket was
buttoned at the neck, with a brooch
exactly like that found in the old house
in the Ram's Horn ; there was a crook-
ed dagger in the sash around the
waist ; and on the dagger's handle
were several characters similar to
those on the inside of the ring which
had been found suspended from my
neck

is.

'" Well, it is nobody ; a mere fancy

piece. The servants have an absurd
notion that it represents a pirate."

"Does it not, then?"

"No mere than it does his lordship,
or his lordship's son, or me. • It was

CHAPTER VI.,

Wherein another Chip is thrown into the current

of my Life, and I hear from Zara.

All these events began to shape
themselves into a problem. "Who am
I? What am I?" were the questions
to be solved. Thus it was that I fre-
quently reviewed the incidents con-
nected with my life, and wondered
whether the missing links in the chain
would be supplied. The facts might
be connected with a common-place ori-
gin— perhaps a base one, after all j
still there was an air of romance about
them, and I was at an age when ro-
mance had full control over the mind.

There was first a child with certain
tokens, delivered to a printer in the
town of Puttenham. One of thes*e to-
kens was a wedding-ring, with a sin-
gular posy ; the other, a packet. The
packet, which I conjectured to contain
the proofs of a marriage, was gone,

1865.]

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

105

but the ring' remained. Then in the
house that would seem to be the one
where the child had been entrusted to
the printer's care, certain relics were
found, one of which contained letters
similar to those in the ring*.

Then the portrait in the gallery,
.'with its strange resemblance to me,
and with the same sort of mysterious
letters on the dagger-blade ; and the
singular appearance of the original to
Gifford.

The bones in Sharp's house — were
they those of the woman ? Was she
my mother ? Had she been murdered?
Admitting the packet to contain evi-
dences of marriage — a conjecture — and
that it were ever recovered — a remote
possibility — how to identify me?

These questions, and others as use-
less, frequently occurred to me, To
what end ? The packet was gone ir-
recoverably— trampled in the snow of
that night — utterly defaced ; the mo-
ther dead ; the mysterious stranger
dead too, perhaps, or interested in keep-
ing silence.

Suppose all elucidated. I might
prove after all to be a — my face red-
dened then. Better to be a child of
mystery than of. shame. And yet the
questions would come again — "Who
am I? What am 1?"

Time went on in the meanwhile. I
studied hard at the earl's books, and
each step made the next easier. The
people of the town thought me a pro-
digy of learning, and I was not dis-
pleased with the vulgar admiration. I
had vanity — who has not ? and it was
tickled. No foreigner, high or low,
ever entered the town, but my name
was mentioned to him, and we were
Speedily brought in contact. I was,
beyond dispute, the great linguist of

Puttenham. This was of service to
me. I acquired greater colloquial in-
tercourse with several modern lan-
guages, and ease of manner. The mu-
nicipal dignitaries honored me with
their nod ; and even the proud Earl of
Landys condescended to speak cf me
as a remarkable boy. With the mili-
tary officers, and the patrons of the
library, I still continued to be a favor-
ite. As I was tall for my age, well-
knit, and with handsome features, the
young ladies of the place looked on me
pleasantly, and the matrons with a for-
bidding air. For you see I was no-
body ; my very name was not my own;
and, though Mr. Guttenberg had adopt-
ed me, I might not be co-heir with his
daughter after all. I was not a desira-
ble match in the eyes of prudent mo-
thers, among . the trades-folk of the
town.

A strange kind of friendship sprang
up between me and Gifford. She
would often slip into the library when
I was there, and interrupt my reading
with reminiscences of the Landys fa-
mily, of whose history she was a walk-
ing chronicle. I asked her but few
questions, contenting myself with play-
ing the part of a listener ; but there
were two points on which I wished to
be enlightened. One was about the
portrait that Bagby mentioned as re-
sembling Espinel ; the other what the
dowager countess meant, if there was
any meaning to the words, by saying :
" The dead has not come, and the liv-
ing will "

Gifford readily answered both ques-
tions.

"I know nothing about the picture. I
recollect there was one in my lord's
chamber, such as you describe, but it
has been removed, I think. As for her

106

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

(March,

ladyship's words, they refer to a pro-
mise of her son. The old lady believes
in spirits coming back to this world
and appearing to their friends, if they
want to. Why shouldn't she ? You
do, don't you V1

As Gifford evidently did, and I had
no desire to discuss the point, I said
evasively :

" Oh, that point is settled among all
sensible people ; but I don't see what
that has to do with the words."

" Why, you see, the late earl was
very fond of his mother, and she of
him. Somehow he never believed in
ghosts and such things — though there
was a spirit in the family once — I'll
tell you about that some other time ;
and they used to dispute about it a
good deal, only in a good-natured way.
I was busy doing something one day
in the countess's chamber, and her son
was there, and they'd been talking over
the matter. Said his lordship, said he:

" ' We'll settle the matter practical-
ly, mother. If I die before you, and
am able to do so, I will come to see
you after death, and let you know how
I like the other world ; and you shall
do the same with me.'

"The countess she spoke up and said,
says she :

" ' That I solemnly promise to do,
George.'

" Now as he has never made his ap-
pearance to her, and she knows he
would keep his word," that's what she
means by saying that the dead hadn't
come, and the living would."

" But," said I, " there can be no doubt
of the earl's death."

" It seems not, but her ladyship don't
believe it."

One thing Gifford was not communi-
cative upon — her own history ; but I

learned that from others. She was an
orphan child, reared by the dowager
countess's direction, and in due time
promoted to be her maid. Despite her
apparent love of tattling, she was close
in regard to some things, and was, be-
yond doubt, the confidante of her noble
mistress What she said to me, there-
fore, I at once divined was not meant
to be a secret, at least from me.

Beside Gifford, I made another friend,
and a very singular one, abont this
time. The reader will remember that
the old house in the Ram's Horn be-
longed to one Sharp. This Sharp,
whose Christian name was Abner, was
a singular character. No man was
more generally execrated and abhorred
by his townsmen. He was a thin,
pinched, cadaverous old man, appa-
rently about sixty, with a high and
narrow forehead, a thin nose, orna-
mented with a knob, like a mighty
pimple, at the tip, and a round, long
chin. His eyes were small, keen and
restless, keeping up an uneasy motion
all the while ; and he had a remarka-
ble and noted habit of casting alarmed
glances from time to time over his
shoulder. He was said to be enor-
mously rich, owning houses upon
houses, holding bonds and mortgages
innumerable, and loaning money at
usurious interest. Yet he was so par-
simonious that he denied himself ne-
cessary food and proper clothing ; and
he lived in the garret of one of his own
houses, the other floors being let to
the poorest class of people. This Sharp
I knew by sight very well, as did every
one else in town, and I had had at
times some conversation with him. He
owned the house and premises which
Mr. Guttenberg occupied, and used to
come on quarter day, exactly on the

1865.]

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

107

stroke of twelve, to receive his rent.
He was also the proprietor of the Mu-
seum of the town, a place got up by a
Yankee speculator, as a resort for the
people of the surrounding country, on
holidays ; but which proved to be a
failure. However such a thing might
do in America, it faile 1 here ; but Sharp
had taken it in lieu of a debt, and it be-
came his only apparent delight. He
used to gloat over its quaint treasures,
its mummies, stuffed beasts, stones
and butterflies ; its pickled heads of
New Zealanders, birds and wax figures.
Nay, he even expended money on it,
not only buying any double-headed
calf, or four-legged chicken that came
along, but absolutely going to some
expense by advertising each new pos-
session in the Puttenham Chronicle,
and having placards printed to post
upon dead walls and pumps, and to
place in the tap-rooms. Through his
visits to the printing-room, I came to
know Sharp tolerably well, and as I
treated him with a sort of patronizing
deference, we became quite familiar.
The truth is that I pitied the poor
wretch in spite of his large posses-
sions, and felt comrnisseration for the
miserable being who, in the midst of
wealth, felt the pangs of poverty. He
returned this by a number of parsimo-
nious proverbs, and much good money-
making advice. There was no obliga-
tion incurred on either side. Each
could well spare what he parted with,
and the gills given were not of the
least use to the recipients.

A striking incident made us quite in-
timate.

One day in winter, the quarter-day,
Sharp came to collect his rent. The
weather was more damp than cold ;
the snow which had fallen the niirlit

before had melted, and when Sharp en-
tered he presented a pitiable sight.
His face looked blue, with the excep-
tion of his nose, which glowed like the
tip of a carbuncle, and he trembled
with weakness and cold. He was thin-
ly clad, as usual, without a great-coat,
and his patched shoes had evidently
not kept out the snow-wrater. I offered
him the loan of my great-coat, but he
declined it, saying that he had a very
excellent wrapper of his own, which
he had forgotten to put on in the morn-
ing. Toward night-fall he came to the
printing-room again, on his way home,
and stood by the grate to dry his feet
and warm himself. He looked even
more ill than before, and I renewed the
offer of the great coat.

" No !" he answered sharply, " I've
one of my own, I tell you. " Besides,"
he added, more pleasantly, "you might
want to go out to-night ; and 1 might
injure your coat too."

" Nonsense !" I said, " I know you'll
take care of it ; you never injure any
thing that costs money, and as I'm not
going out- tonight, I shan't want it.
You'll be ill if you don't take it ; and
if you do wear it out a little, that's no
matter. As I'm not quite so rich as
you, I'm not so close."

"Ah !" he muttered, "wilful waste
makes woeful want. If I were to be
as extravagant as you I'd soon be a
beggar. It's very comfortable though,"
he continued, as he put it on, " and
wadded, too. A printer's apprentice
with such a coat as this. Dear me !
West of England cloth, at that. Why
don't you wear shoddy? Your master
allows you this, eh? He'll never bo
rich — never I"

And off he went, grumbling.

That night at supper I mentioned

108

THE PEER AXD THE PRINTER.

[March,

the occurrence laughingly to the fa-
mily.

" Dear me !" exclaimed Mrs. Gutten-
berg, " what a mean man he is ; and
so rich. To be sure, he was poor
enough once — a wild spendthrift."

" He a spendthrift, mother ! That's
the last I should expect to hear of him.
Why he might stand to a sculptor for
a model of Avarice. It seems to have
been born with him."

" It was in the blood, that's a fact,"
said the old woman, " but he was a
spendthrift at first ; and his father
threatened to disinherit him. The old
man would have done it, too, everybod3>"
said ; but he died suddenly, and there
was no will found, so, as Abner was an
only son, he fell heir to about ten thou-
sand pounds."

" Which he has screwed and scraped,
and swelled into a hundred thousand
at least," said Mr. Guttenberg. "When
his father died he cut loose from his
riotous companions, and for forty years
he has been a miserable, sordid, grip-
ing miser, without a friend in the
world."

" He is much to be pitied then," I
said.

"I do not pity him," said Mary.
" He is a mean old hunks ; and I don't
believe you'll get your coat again, Am-
brose."

" He was wiser in one thing than
you, my boy," said Mr. Guttenberg,
"for you really will want your coat to-
night. He signed the receipt I wrote
for the rent, and by mistake I have
made it up to the end of the coming
quarter. It is very odd that he did
not notice the blunder. I wish you
would go to his lodgings and have the
error corrected at once. Here is the
old receipt, and a new one stamped.

You can run along fastly, so you wont
need any overcoat while you're going ;
and you can get your own to return
in."

"Won't the morning do as well?"
inquired his wife.

" Oh, no ! As the old fellow would
say himself, ' never put off till to-mor-
row what you can do to-day.' Ambrose
rather likes the errand, I dare say."

" Of course I do," I answered. " I
want to see how the old miser lives at
home." And without further words I
took the receipt and started.

I cantered along briskly through the
sloppy, half-melted snow, to the house
where old Sharp had his den. Like
many other of his buildings, it w7as in
a dilapidated condition. I knocked at
the door, and after considerable delay
it was opened by a half-grown girl,
who held a flaring tallow candle over
her head with one hand, while she kept
the door half closed with the other.

" What do you want V she inquired.

" I wish to see Mr. Sharp on parti-
cular business," I answered.

" I don't know that he'll want to see
you. He never does business after
dark. Who are you ?"

" My name is Fecit, and I come from
Mr. Guttenberg."

'• Oh," said the girl, after scrutiniz-
ing me closely, " I know you. You
can go up to his room, but I don't
think you'll get in. He bolts up at
dark, and won't speak to any one. It's
the topmost room of the house. You
can't miss it. You can take this light,
and leave it on the stair-head."

I took the candle, and made my way
up the creaking staircase to the gar-
ret. I knocked at the door, but there
was no reply made. I tried the knob,
and to my surprise the door opened.

1865.J

THE PEER AXD THE PRINTER.

109

I entered.

I had never seen a room so meanly
furnished containing" so many tokens
of wealth There was a heavy iron
box, a wooden chest of drawers, a ta-
ble covered with papers, jewelry and
money, and a pallet. The windows
were furnished with iron bars, and
there wore three bolts to the door, and
a chain. Around the room in a con-
fused litter were articles of vertu, piles
of handsomely bound books, beautiful
pictures, and an old suit of armor.
Hanging on hooks in the walls were
several curious swords and two pairs
of pistols, richly mounted. Upon a
large silver salver, which lay on the
chest of drawers, were a number of
pieces of plate, and on the corner of
the table lay a diamond-studded snuff-
box. As a sort of mockery of the va-
luables, there was a wooden platter in
the midst of the table, containing a
crust of bread and a red herring. The
supper had been untouched.

I turned toward the pallet. Sharp,
still wrapped in my great-coat, lay
upon it, breathing heavily. I shook
him, but there was no answer. He did
not recognize me. I felt his pulse — it
scarcely beat. His* head was hot, but
his feet were cold as ice. 'I ran to the
door and called down the stairs. Some
of the inmates of the rooms put their
heads out from their doors, among the
rest the girl who had admitted me.

" Send some one for the nearest doc-
tor," 1 said, "Mr. Sharp i'j quite un-
well. Ami bring me some hot water,
somebody. I'd be obliged to any one
who'd go for Mr. Gutteuberg." They
were all for entering the room, but I
kept them back. As soon as 1 had
pacified them 1 threw some old clothes
over the money and valuables that

were exposed to view, so that when
the girl came with the hot water there
was nothing in sight of which she
could babble to excite the .cupidity of
her hearers.

I removed Sharp's shoes. His feet
were icity cold. I propped him half
upright in the pallet, and placed his
feet in the hot water. I then opened
the dormer window, and obtaining
some snow from the roof, made a term-
porary bag of my handkerchief, and
placing the snow in it, applied it to
his head. These simple measures soon
had their effect. The pulse began to
beat more quickly and firmly ; the tem-
perature of the body became more even,
and the breathing grew natural. At
length Sharp recognised me.

" What arc you doing here ?" he ask-
ed, endeavoring to rise. He was too
weak, however, and fell back again.

"You can let him lie down now," 1
said to the girl who was aiding me.
" Go down stairs, and when the doctor
and Mr. Gutteuberg come, show them
up at once."

The girl left the rjom. Sharp looked
at me in wonder.

" What do you mean ?" he asked.
11 1 don't want a doctor. He'll ruin
me."

" Pray be quiet," I said. " You are
very ill, and must have a doctor. He'll
be here presently."

" I won't pay him. I didn't send for
him — mind that."

" Very well ; we won't quarrel on
that score. A doctor is necessary, and
if you won't pay for him I will."

" You can't ; you havn't the money ;

you're only a prentice boy. What's

your business here, anyhow? Do you

think you'll get any money from me T

I was thoroughly provoked but I

110

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

[March,

kept my temper, as there was no use
of quarreling with such a madman*
So I told him my errand there. It
seemed to calm him at first, but at the
next moment he glanced uneasily at
the table. *

" All right," I said, in answer to his
look. " I threw those clothes on the
table and chest, that the girl's prying
eyes might not fall on the money and
plate you had left exposed."

"It -was thoughtful," he said, after a
moment's pause. " I must trust some
one — why not you ? Take those keys
from under my pillow ; there, pick only
the second-sized one from the bunch ;
open the chest, and put the money and
jewelry away."

I obeyed him, locked the chest, and
returned the key. I had scarcely done
this when the doctor entered, closely
followed by Mr. Guttenberg. The doc-
tor wasn't a physician ; he was not a
regular M. D., but what in Puttenham
is called an apothecary. In London
he would have styled himself a gene-
ral practitioner. He was of some emi-
nence in his profession, and bore the
reputation of being a very worthy
man.

" I didn't send for you," said Sharp,
when he saw him. " Remember, if you
prescribe I won't pay you. I call Mr.
Guttenberg to witness."

Mr. Gray, the doctor, smiled, and
asked me the history of the case. I
told him how I had found the old man,
and what I had done.

"You couldn't have done better if
you had been the whole Royal College
of Surgeons," said Mr. Gray. " You
have probably saved his life. Without
your prompt action, the congestion of
the brain might have been fatal."

" Do you think he saved my life V1

inquired Sharp, leaning on his elbow,
and peering in the doctor's face.

" I think it very probable."

" Well, well !" exclaimed the miser,
" I suppose I ought to ba much obliged
to him. But he isn't a regular prac-
titioner ; he can't make me pay."

The air of the old man as he said
this was so absurdly earnest, that we
all burst into a simultaneous peal of
laughter. Sharp looked annoyed, but
the next instant his features relaxed
into a faint smile.

" I am well enough now, at all
events," said he, " and 1 don't want
any one here now."

The doctor told him that he was not
well enough at all, and that it was ne-
cessary some one should remain with
him during the night, to carry out the
directions left.

" I won't have any one here," per-
sisted Sharp.

" But you must," reiterated the doc-
tor. •

" If Ambrose will stay, he may ; but
I'll have no one else," returned the mi-
ser.

I looked at Mr. Guttenberg inqui-
ringly. He nodded his head.

"Very well," I safel, " I'll stay."

Mr. Gray told me what medicines
he should send, how to administer
them, and what to do in case certain
unfavorable symptoms came on. Then
off he went, and Mr. Guttenberg with
him. Previous to the departure of the
latter, he handed me a letter.

" This came," said he, " during the
afternoon. I forgot to hand it you at
supper. We'll keep your breakfast
ready for you in the morning."

I was left alone with my strange
charge. I turned towards him. He
was fast asleep. I found a couple of

1865.1

TIIE PEER AND THE PRINTER

111

tallow candles in a tin box, and laid
them in readiness by the candlestick ;
put some of the books that were scat-
tered about on the table to read during
the night ; took the medicine from the
doctor's boy, who had now come, awa-
kened my patient and gave him the
powder according to directions, and
then sat down to read my letter.

Tt was from Paul Bagby, and read as
follows :

" My dear Ambrose : — Read this letter as
carefully as you like, and then— burn it.

"Zara is in my cliarge — where you will
learn some day by word of mouth. I dare
not, for her sake, write it, lest some accident
should befall this letter.

" Espinel, who is a Spanish nobleman, and
her uncle, has disappeared. He has been
either killed or abducted ; which I cannot
say.

1 ' Keep ail this secret. "What I desire you
to do for me, and for Zara's sake, is to ascer-
tain, without provoking remark, if Mr. Os-
borne left the castle recently. If so, when,
how long he was absent, and whether he has
now returned.

" The blow at Zara comes from that quar-
tsr. I would like to tell you all ; but this is
not the proper place nor time. I shall see
you shortly if I can leave London.

1 ' Make some excuse for examining the re-
cords of the parish-church of St. Stephen.
See the inarriage-Kgister, and get me the
exact date of the marriage of the present
Earl of Landys with Miss Ansleigh. I wish
to see if it corresponds with the statement in
Burke's peerage."

I read the letter twice, and tearins:
it in strips, consumed them one by one
in the flame of the candle.

CHAPTER VII,
Wldch contains singular revelations, and tells
of the growth of an odd friendship.

I was musing over the contents of
the letter, when I heard Sharp speak.
I went to the pallet. The old man's
eyes were staring wildly, their whites

injected with blood, and his face deep-
ly flushed. The fever, as the doctor
had warned me, had evidently come
on. It was with some difficulty I
could get him to swallow the draught
sent for such an exigency.

He lay there, restlessly tossing about,
while I paced up and down the room,
striving to keep myself warm. There
was a grate, indeed, at the chimney-
place, but it was quite empty, and it
was too late in the night to order coals.
All I could do to defend myself against
the cold was to keep myself in motion.

The rustling noise of Sharp's move-
ments stopped. I turned to look at
him. He was sitting erect on the bed,
his eyes dilated and almost starting
from their sockets with terror.

" Ah I" he cried, in a tone of horror
that made my very flesh creep, " there
he is, cold and stiff ; and he is my fa-
ther I Have I murdered him? Take
him away ! Take him away !"

Was this, then, the terrible secret of
the old man's life, or was it the crea-
tion of the fever ?

" There ! there !" he said, "they are
coming — for me ! There is the gallows!
and the rope — how it dangles and
swings! The hangman — I see him!
and the crowd ! how they yell and
howl ! Oh, God ! how they yell !"

This, then, I thought, was the cause
of those watchful glances which he cast
over his shoulder from time to time as
he walked — this was the spectre that
haunted him.

I hoisted the window again, obtain-
ed some snow, and applied it to his
head.

" Heavens V* I said, as I was thus
engaged, " is this miserable old man a
parricide ?"

lie caught at the word.

112

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

[March,

"Parricide !" he exclaimed. "No,
my lord, and you, gentlemen of the
jury, I did not mean to murder him.
No ; mean and cold and cruel as he was
to me, he was still my father. Mur-
der ! — me ! Why I would not harm a
worm. I meant to rob ; yes, I meant
to help myself from his hoard ;
for she — she was starving- — dying of
want — and he spurned me from him —
he would not give me a farthing to
save her — her ! my poor Margaret !
Yes ! I was a spendthrift — a reckless
young man ; but I was a husband ! I
thought to make him sleep the rounder
that 1 might get the keys, lie slept,
and he never awoke again. Ah ! the
money came too late ! too late ! my
poor Margaret was dead !"

I still applied the snow, and he calm-
ed under it, but his fancies were busy
with him.

" Yes ! I know — he died of disease
of the heart — they said his death was
sudden ; but did not the laudanum has-
ten it ? He comes at night," he mur-
mured, " at night, when all is still, and
sits and looks at me with his cold eyes
and pale face ; he tells me that I have
his money ; but I have no Margaret —
and then he goes to only come back
again — again — again. You are there
now, and your touch is cold as ice."

" It is I, Ambrose Fecit," I said.
" Don't you know me ?"

" But I wonder what is in the pack*
et," he continued. " Shall I open it ?
I think not."

I renewed the snow application to
his head.

" My poor Margaret !" he said. " She
is dead, and I have nothing to love
now but gold — gold — gold ! I am rich
— they do not know how rich I am ;
but I atone j yes, I atone. Men hate

and despise me for a miser. The3T'll
never know me better ; but the grave
will cover me, and then the worms will
find it out— ha ! ha ! the worms will
find it out !"

It was a trying position for one of
my age to fill — alone in a cold and
cheerless room, in the dead hours of'
the night, listening to the ravings of a
remorseful man, whose sensitive con-
science, excited by disease, exa^^cra-
ted his crime, and unmasked his soul
to a stranger. What he meant by say-
ing that he atoned, I could not even
conceive. His sordid life, his denial of
pity and kindness to others, and even
to himself, was a worse crime than the
robbery of his father. The one was
prompted by the suffering of his wife ;
the other had no palliation. But with
.these and other thoughts within me, I
still sat there applying the cooling
snow to his head, and administering'
his hourly draught. Two or throe
hours more of raving and delirium
passed, and then he sank into an un-
easy slumber. I gathered what spare
clothes I could find around, and muf-
fling myself in these to secure a portion
of warmth, I took up one of the books
on the table, and sal* down to read.
Willi the exception of once, when he
awakened, and took the draught ready
for him, I remained thus until long af-
ter the grey streaks of dawn had sto-
len through the dusty window-panes.

lie did not wake until after nine
o'clock. lie was evidently much bet-
ter ; his skin was moist and his mind
clear, though his body was weak. He
looked at me curiously.

" I have been very sick, have I not?"
he inquired at length.

" Yes," I answered, " you have had
a high fev€r during the greater part of

1865.]

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

11:

the night, talking all sorts of nonsense,
and seeing all kinds of dead people."

He looked a little alarmed.

"What did I say?"

" Oh, you saw your father, and told
mo all about him."

I fixed my eyes on him closely and
curiously as I said this. He did not
seem so discomposed as I expected.

"Tell me what I said."

I repeated it nearly word for word.

"Well," he said, when I had done,
" do you think me a murderer, or was
it the fever ?"

" 1 am willing to put down two-
thirds, at least to the fever."

He raised himself up.

" Is it possible," said he, " that
you've keen sitting there without lire
all night, and your great coat on me ?
Why didn't you get it ?" '

" I couldn't well disturb you for such
a purpose. I got along very well."

"Help me off with it now. There,
there. You ought to whisk it well. It
is full of lint. The brush never injures
clothing so much as dust. Remember
that. You should never have suffered
me to lie in your coat. It injures a
coat very much. You'll never be rich,
if you're so extravagant,"

" Why, you miserable old man !" I
exclaimed, provoked at his folly, "do
you suppose greatcoats were not made
to be of service ? I wouldn't have
your feelings for ten times your mo-
ney."

"And the doctor said you saved my
life ; I remember that. And yet you
despise me."

" You despise yourself. As for me
I only despise your parsimony. Do
you think people can respect any man
who walks through life alone, doing
no good to kin or kind?"

" I have no kin, and men are not of
my kind."

" God forbid they were," I said to
myself.

lie seemed to read my thoughts by
his remark.

" Shall I tell you my secret, then ?"
"As you choose about that. I covet
no more confidence than you have al-
ready given me without intending it."
" I will tell you. I have watched
you before this. You have prudence
and discretion beyond your years ; and
I would sooner trust you than graver
and older men. Your feelings are
fresh yet — you will understand me."

The old man evidently could not re-
press the desire to pour out his whole
hii&ory, and I sat there and listened.

Parsimony ran in the blood. His
father, Jacob' Sharp, had acquired a
fortune of twenty thousand pounds, by
saving and pinching. Abner was
brought up to his father's trade, that
of a silver-smith, and became an expert
workman ; but the family taste for
hoarding did not at first betray itself
in him. On the contrary, his vice ran
the other way. Young Abner spent as
fast, and faster than lie earned, to the.
great disgust of the father ; and to add
to the chagrin and anger of the latter,
the son fell in love and married a pour
orphan girl. The elder Sharp grew
furious at this last act of folly, turned
his son out ot doors, and swore he ne-
ver would see his daufrhter-in-law.
Abner grew more prudent in money
matters, but an accident to his right
hand threw him out of work, his sur-
plus means were soon exhausted, and
he and his wife were reduced to warn.
She, indeed, obtained a pittance b\
sewing, but fell sick, more through
hunger than disease, and languished.

114

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

[March,

Abner made up his mind to rob his fa-
ther of a sufficient sum tc pay the pas-
sage of himself and wife to America,
where he believed he could get employ-
ment. Now, old Sharp, in spite of his
avarice, indulged in one luxury, name-
ly, a night-cap of old ale before he went
to bed. Into this night draught Ab-
ner managed to pour some laudanum,
a dose of which he had in the house.
It was not an overdose by any means,
but it set the miser soundly asleep.
The son obtained the keys, helped him-
self to sufficient money from a spot
where he knew it would not be missed
for awhile, and left the house. The
next morning, while he was preparing
to leave for Liverpool, word was
brought him that his father had been
found dead in his chair. The coroner's
jury, on the evidence of the surgeons
who made a post-mortem examination
of the body, rendered a verdict of
" Death from disease of the heart f
but Abner was filled with the belief
that the dose of laudanum had hasten-
ed his father's death. Hence the re-
morsel ul feelings which embittered his
Lfe. He succeeded to the father's pro-
perly as heir-at-law, but all the money
came too late lor his wife, who died
the day after his father. From that
time the family propensity broke out
on him fiercely ; he gave himself up
totally to the accumulation of money,
and for forty years had devoted his
energy, backed by unmitigated parsi-
mony, to gain.

" Young man," said he, when he had
closed his story, "I owe yoti my life.
I am not ungratelul. I will show you
more of myself than the world knows.
You shall not entirely despise me. Hi-
therto I have had no particular care
for one human being beyond another,

and no one has cared for me ; but I.
can confide in you. I like you. If you
will promise not to reveal it, I will ac-
quaint you with a secret."

"As you choose. I do not covet
your confidence, as I told you before;
but if your secret be one I can honor-
ably keep, I'll hear it."

He arose, and I assisted him to ar-
range his dress. He went to the iron
chest where I had placed his money
and jewelry, and took out a book.

" No one but myself," said he, " has
ever looked at these entries. The book
will be destroyed when I feel death
approaching. Before you examine it,
let me tell you something. You re-
member that James Meadows, the car-
penter, was burned out last spring ?"

" Yes."

" His tools, his household furniture,
the clothing of the family, everything
he had was destroyed. He and his
family barely escaped with their lives.
They were in great distress. Every
one pitied them, and the pity took the
substantial shape of one pound, four-
teen shillings and nine pence."

" Y7ou are mistaken," I said, " fifty
pounds were sent by an unknown hand
from London. On this Meadows com-
menced his work again, and is doing
well. There was one good Samari-
tan."

" No; it was merely the payment due
from discriminating wealth to honest
industry crippled by misfortune. Mea-
dows was an honest and industrious
man, and the fire came through no
carelessness of his. He was my ten-
ant, and I lost a house by it — a loss
only partly made up by the insurance.
The money came from mo through my
London bankers."

" From you I"

v »
3SG5.J THE PEER AND THE PRINTER. 115

" Yes, from mo I sent it with a I was much astonished at the state-

written charge to Meadows that he ment, but more so when I glanced over

should. repay the unknown lender, by the book which he placed in my hand.

pending anonymously, from time to It was a record extending over many

timOj as he could afford it, small sums years, of sums secretly sent to needy

'){' money to poor and honest persons persons, running from hundreds of

in distress. I hope and believe that pounds down to a few shillings, and

he will be honest enough to pay the amounted in the aggregate to a heavy

debt in that way.'; sum.

(To be continued.)

-»^«_

MOON-LIGHT MAYING.

Dear mother, good night —

My heart is light I

By morning bright,
Til be back from the moon-light Maying ;

In forest bower,

At midnight hour,

The " true-love flower"
Will bloom, if true lovers are straying.

Ah, maiden young,

With thoughtless tongue,

What dost among
The dark forest trees until dawning ?

To keep thee right,

God send his light!

If not, good night
To mother and fame b efore morning !

C. CHATJNCEX BUEIt.

UIILAND.

My hand has turned the last fair leaf,

My heart has drank the last wild lay,
My brain in transport, ah ! too brief,

Has threaded all thy ilowry way.

Dear Poet, unto thee I turn,

As unto days too bltst to linger,
A weary heart thou hadst to burn,

As touched by sorno bright angel's lingor.

MRS. HELEN RIOI!.

116

CELEBRATED BEAUTIES OF HAMPTON COURT.

[March, 1865,

THE CELEBRATED FEMALE BEAUTIES OF 'HAMPTON COURT.

Hampton Court Palace stands on
the bank ot the Thames, twelve miles
from Loudon, or from Hyde Park, in
one of the most beautiful spots in
England. It was built by Cardinal
Wolsey in 1545, when that great Pre-
late's income was even greater than
the revenues of the Crown. There
is a legend that the Cardinal being
sensitive on the point of enjoying
health and long life, employed the em-
inent physicians of England, and also
the most learned of the faculty from
Padua, to determine the most healthy
spot within twenty m^es of London.
After a careful inspection, they report-
ed this spot in the parish of Hampton
as being the most healthy, from its soil
and its pure water. When the mag-
nificent structure was completed, it be-
gan, as the old chronicler expresses it,
" to excite great envy at court," and
the king, Henry YIIL, " questioned the '
Cardinal as to his intentions in budd-
ing a palace that far surpassed any of
the royal palaces in England.'7 Wol-
sey replied, that "he was only trying
to form a residence worthy of so great
a monarch," and actually made a pre-
sent of the whole splendid castle and
domain to the king. It was the favor-
ite residence of the kings and queens
of England from the reign of Henry
VIII. to that of George II., covering a
period of more than two hundred years.
It was the scene of all the revelries of
" merry king Harry." Here he dis-
posed of live wives, and took a sixth in
Lady Catharine Parr. As we walked
through the halls and chambers of this

old castle, in 1859, our heart paid an
involuntary tribute to the memory of
such immortal fair ones as the unfor-
tunate Anne Boleyn, and the Lady ,j ane
Seymour, whose presence had orna-
mented these grand saloons more than
three hundred years before. The walls
of the state apartment of the Palace are
ornamented with a vast number of
pictures of all descriptions, among
which are likenesses of the chief mem-
bers of the royal families of England,
as also of all the favorites of the
different kings. There they hang', side
by side, the wives and mistresses of
the kings. Time has leveled all dis-
tinctions— even those between virtue
and vice. Of the hundreds of thou-
sands who visit thcoc grand halls every
year, not one throws a more respectful
and admiring glance upon the face of
that model of propriety and virtue,
Queen Catharine, than upon that of her
frail and fascinating rival, Nell Gwynne,
Such a grand leveler is time. Hood's
charitable lines are obeyed by history:

"Make no deep scrutiny,
Into her mutiny,

Rash and imdutiful ; —
Past all dishonor,
Death has left on her,

Only the beautiful.7'

The visitor to Hampton Court Pal-
ace, after passing up what is called
" The King's Grand Staircase," and
through "The King's Presence Cham-
ber," and "Audience Chamber," reaches
what is known as "King William the
Third's Bed-room." Here, in a state of
remarkable preservation, is the state

March, 1865.]

CELEBRATED BEAUTIES OF HAMPTON COURT.

117

bed of Queen Charlotte. The furniture
is a most beautiful specimen of em-
broidered needle-work. The ceiling
was painted by Vezzio — is in perfect
condition, and represents Night and
Morning. The clock, which stands at
the head of the bed, goes twelve
months without winding up. Looking
up to the walls, the spectator finds him-
self in the presence of the celebrated
Beauties of Charles the Second's Court.

Anne Hyde. — The first figure that
#ill attract his eye is that of Anne
Hyde, Duchess of York. She was one
of the greatest beauties of her time,
and was beside a lady of great saga-
city and wit. Her fair fame unfortun-
ately became compromised with the
libertine Duke of York, but he at
last gave evidence that he truly loved
her. She was the daughter of the
Lord Chancellor Clarendon ; and when
rumors of her elevation to a union
with the heir to the English crown be-
came known, great alarm or jealousy
agitated the Court of Charles II. The
nobles and other courtiers whispered
to the Duke many scandalous stories
against her ; but the Duke cut them
short by immediately introducing them
to the Duchess as his wife in the pre-
sence of the Lord Chancellor, her fa-
ther. They had been secretly married.
Her portrait is full length, in a rich
amber-colored satin dress, by Lely. If
this picture does not flatter her, she
must have been a woman of surpass-
ing beauty and gracefulness. She died
before the Duke's accession to the
throne, leaving two daughters, Queen
Mary and Queen Anne.

Catharine of Braganza — Casting the
eye a little further along the wall, we
come to the portrait of Catharine, the
pious and devoted Queen of Charles

II. Though not absolutely ugly, it
must be confessed that there was little
in her person to hold the attentions of
a naturally wayward king like her
husband. At first she was extremely
shocked, if not quite heart-broken at
the licentious conduct of Charles ; yet,
when the first emotions of her grief
subsided, we are told that she appeared
to have cherished a sincere passion for
him, and ever after loved him with un-
wavering tenderness. The historian
says, that being given over by her
physician, and at the point of death,
she was visited by the king, and sup-
posing it would be the last time she
would ever speak to him, told him, that
the concern he showed for her death
was enough to make her quit life with
regret ; but that not possessing charms
sufficient to merit his tenderness, she
had at least the consolation in dying to
give place to a consort who might be
more worthy of it, and to whom Hea-
ven, perhaps, might grant a blessing
that had been refused to her. At these
word's she bathed his hands with her
tears. He mingled iiis own with hers,
and, without supposing- she would take
him at his word, entreated her to live
for his sake. The sudden impulse pro-
duced by this unexpected tenderness
gave a check to the malady, and saved
her life. She outlived the king nearly
twenty years.

Duchess of Portsmouth. — Next to the
portrait of Queen Catharine, is that of
Louise do Queronaille, who was sent
over to England, in 1G70, by Louis
XIV., in the train of the Duchess of
Orleans, to bind Charles II. to the in-
terests of France. The device was
most successful, for this frail fair one
obtained siu'h control o{' the king that
the affairs of the English Court were

118

CELEBRATED BEAUTIES OF HAMPTON COURT.

[March, 1865,

conducted with entire subserviency to
to those of France. She was created
Duchess of Portsmouth three years
after her arrival at the English Court.
She had one son by King Charles,
Charles Lenox, whom the king created
Duke of Richmond. If this French
adventuress were not more beautiful
than her portrait, we are simply aston-
ished that she obtained the ascendancy
she did over the heart and actions of
Charles. To say that she was short,
dumpy, and ill shaped, is not all. Her
face, in the picture, is both lascivious
and stupid, without being redeemed by
a single line of that naivete, or bel-esprit,
which we should naturally look for in
a celebrated French beauty.

Eleanor Gwynne — Or Nell Gwynne,
as she is universally called, is the next
portrait in this gallery of beauty. We
almost marvel that she sits quiet, so
near the dumpy, French Duchess, of
whom she made a perpetual butt for the
sparkling shafts of her satire and wit
while living. Charles often found him-
self sandwiched between the conten-
tions of these rival fair ones. <~Nell be-
gan life as an orange girl, selling
oranges every night at the theatre.
From this low beginning, she rose to
be a celebrated actress, and became
for a time the theatrical rage of Lon-
don. From this rank she fell to be
a mistress of the king, and was one
of the most brilliant wits at the Court
of Charles II. She had a son by the
kin^r, who became somewhat cele-
brated, as the Duke of St. Alban's. It
was by a stroke of Nell's wit that he
obtained his title. When Charles was
one day coming into her presence, she
said to her child, " Sit down, you little
bastard." "Why, Nelly," said the
king, " is that the name you give our

boy !" " Alas ! Sire," she replied, " I
have no other name for him." " Ah !
I see," rejoined Charles, " then I will
make one for him — he shall be Duke
of St. Alban's." This frail wit main-
tained her place in the heart of King
Charles to the time of his death. She
survived him seven or eight years.
She was very popular with the people,
from the fact that she was always the
friend of the poor and deserving a\
Court. She enjoyed as good a charac-
ter for amiability as for wit Time
has not robbed her of this reputation.
Of all the faces in that great hall, we"
saw none that attracted more atten-
tion from the visitors than that of Nell
Gwynne. All paused to look at her
portrait, and from more than one we
heard some such involuntary exclama-
tion as, "Poor Nell Gwynne." Her per-
son, though rather under size, was of
an exquisite mould. There is not,
perhaps, a finer bust among the seve-
ral hundred female portraits of Hamp-
ton Court. Her face did not strike us
as being as beautiful as many others
adorning those walls, but it possesses
a sweetness and vivacity altogether
worthy of a better fate than hers.
This portrait was painted by Lely,
and is considered one of the best of
that ercat artist.

Duchess of Cleveland. — We next
come to the portrait of this celebrated
beauty. Her character was as far the
reverse of Nell Gwynne's as possible.
Bishop Burnet describes her Grace in
no flattering terms. He says, "She
was a woman of great beauty, but
enormously wicked, ravenous, foolish,
and imperious." We have sometimes
heard the expression, " beautiful as the
devil." If the devil were ever to as-
sume the shape of a beautiful woman,

March, 1865.

CELEBRATED BEAUTIES OF HAMPTON COURT.

110

we can well conceive that he might
take the face of her Grace as it appears
in this portrait. Though what a shal-
low observer might pronounce very
beautiful, it is all full of the subtle lines
of treachery and sin. She was Coun-
tess of Castlemain, in right of her hus-
band ; and she was created Duchess of
Cleveland as a peace-offering after one
of the violent quarrels which fre-
quently occurred between her and her
ro}Tal lover.

Queen Elizabeth. — Leaving this
chamber appropriated to the frail
beauties of the Court of Charles II.,
we pass through several rooms with
pictures of merit, on all subjects, until
we come to what is called " Her Ma-
jesty's Gallery," in which we find a
portrait of Queen Elizabeth, painted
by Mark Garrard, and said to be the
last picture taken of her Majesty.
The reputation of the painter ought to
be a guarantee that it is life-like. But
we must confess that we rarely if ever
looked upon a less attractive, or a
more sinister face. We instinctively
asked ourself, can this be a correct
likeness of the greatest Queen, if not,
indeed, the greatest monarch that ever
sat on the British throne ? There are
in this gallery four other portraits of
this great Queen, all painted when she
was young, and evidently fancy pic-
tures hi everything, except the red
hair.

Mary of Lorraine. — Passing along
this gallery, we come to a face which
arrests the attention, not only from its
beauty, but from a certain peculiar
and sweet sadness of expression, which
imparts to it an indescribable charm.
When we read the name of " Mary of
Lorraine,*1 we at one*.1 feel a new inter-

< t, for we remember that she was the

mother of Mary Queen of Scots. She
was the wife of James V., king of Scot-
land. This portrait was painted by
her grandson, King James I. of Eng-
land. #

Mary Queen of Scots. — Leaving this
gallery, and passing through sever;! 1
grand chambers, filled with pictures
and portraits which we have not space
to refer to, we come to the chamber,
called the Prince of Wales' Bed-room."
It is full of pictures of great interest
and rare merit ; but the eye is at once
attracted to a full-length portrait of a
very beautiful woman at the far end of
the room. There is always a crowd
before it. If the reader is ever so for-
tunate as to visit this chamber, he will
probably pass by all the other pictures
in the room to see what has attracted
the crowd to this spot. It is the cele-
brated portrait of the fair and unfor-
tunate Mary Queen of Scots, by Zuc-
chei'o. This beautiful Princess was
married when a mere child to her cou-
sin, Francis II. of France, on which
occasion she assumed the title of
Quee/i of England, on the ground that
Elizabeth was an illegitimate daugh-
ter of Henry VIII., and not therefore
entitled to the throne. On the death
of Francis II., in 15C0, Mary returned
to Scotland, ot which kingdom she was
Queen, and married Lord Darnley lie
soon became jealous of her and the
famous musician David Rizzio, and
caused him to be assassinated one
night in the presence of the Queen.
Subsequently Darnley was killed by
the Earl of Dothwell, who shortly
afterwards married the Queen. Pretty
soon upon the heels of these events, ;i
revolution, inspired to a great extent
by the intolerant fanaticism of John
Knox, caused Mary to ll v to England

120

CELEBRATED BEAUTIES OF HAMPTON COURT.

[March.

for protection. No sooner was she on
Englislrsoil, than the. implacable Eliza-
beth threw her into prison, where she
detained her in solitary confinement
eighteen years, and then caused her to
be executed on the 18th of February,
1587, in the forty-fifth year of her age.
After the death of Francis II., Queen
Elizabeth tried to induce Mary to marry
her para mour, (Elizabeth's,) the Earl of
Leicester, but Mary chose Lord Darn-
ley, who also hud the reputation of
being a favorite of Elizabeth. This
lovely Princess exhibited great forti-
tude at her execution. When prepar-
ing- for the block, by taking off her
veil and upper garments, she remark-
ed, with a smile, that she "had not
been accustomed to undress before so
many spectators, nor to be served by
such valets." The Earls of Shrews-
bury and Kent were present, as Eliza-
beth's commissioners, to attend to the
execution. Without the least terror,
Mary laid her head upon the block — ■
the executioner did his work, and seiz-
ing the head streaming with blood, he
cried out, "So perish all Queen Eliza-
beth's enemies." The Earl of Kent
alone brutally responded "Amen,"
while all the rest of the spectators
bowed their heads in silence and tears.
Mary Queen of Scots was as gifted
in her intellect as she was beautiful
and accomplished in her person. As
compared with Elizabeth, she was a
model of every womanly excellence
and virtue, and she occupies a place
in the respect and affections of man-
kind which her haughty and inex-
horable cousin and persecutor, Eliza-
beth, can never reach. Hundreds of
thousands of eyes have paid the tribute
of their tears to this almost speaking"
portrait of the beautiful original.

Jane Shore. — Passing out of this
gallery, and through the great hall de-
voted to the Cartoons of Raphael, we
come to another portrait gallery, which
contains the likenesses of many cele-
brated beauties, but none of them
rival, if indeed any equal, that of the
beautiful and unfortunate Jane Shore,
the favorite of King Edward IV. After
the death of the king, she became at-
tached to Lord Hastings. When Hast-
ings fell under the displeasure of Rich-
ard III., both were accused of witch-
craft, and after undergoing a mock
trial, she was made to do penance at
St. Paul's in a white sheet, her property
confiscated, and she was reduced to
the greatest distress. Thus closed the
career of the beautiful Jane Shore.
There was a time when no woman in
England could boast of more admirers
than she. The face of this portrait is
exceedingly beautiful, without a single
line or expression to indicate the frail-
ties of the original.

"Fair Rosamond." — Passing along",
we come to the portrait of the famous
"Fair Rosamond," the favorite mis-
tress of King Henry II. She was the
daughter of Walter de Clifford, Baron
of Hereford, and was the most cele-
brated beauty in her time. The wife
of the king, Queen Eleanor, became so
jealous of " Fair Rosamond," that the
king- secreted her in a labyrinth at the
Palace of Woodstock, where she was
discovered and poisoned by the Queen.
She had two sons by the king — Wil-
liam, famed as Longsword, and Jeffery,
who became Archbishop of York.

Marchioness de Pompadour. — In pass-
ing, the visitor is quite sure to be at-
tracted by a portrait of this celebrated
beauty, the mistress of Louis XV.,
who was the originator of a style oi

March.]

CELEBRATED BEAUTIES OF HAMPTON COURT.

121

dress, called the " Pompadour neck,"
which is fashionable to this day. She
was a woman of intellect, as well as of
great beauty, and obtained such an
ascendency over the heart and mind of
the king* as to make her influence felt,
and seen in nearly all his public acts.
This influence she retained to the period
of her death, in 1764. She was a libe-
ral encourager of the arts, and a patron
of men and women of genius.

Anne Boleyn. — We have only time
left to refer to one more of the por-
traits of celebrated beauties of Hamp-
ton Court, and that shall be the charm-
ing but unfortunate Anne Bole3*n. We
shall almost always find a crowd of
men and women sadly contemplating
her sweet but melancholy face. She
was the daughter of the Earl of Wilt-
shire, and was maid of honor to Queen
Catharine. The king, Henry VIII.,
being smitten with her beauty, divorc-
ed his queen to marry her ; but the
king soon after falling in love with
Jane Seymour, caused her to be be-
headed in order that he might
elevate the object of his new passion
to the throne. Anne Boleyn was the
mother of Queen Elizabeth. Critically
speaking, there are many portraits in
Hampton Court more beautiful than
that of this celebrated beauty, but
none, we think, which will leave a
more tender impression upon the me-
mory of the visitor. Nothing can ex-
cel the delicacy and sweetness of her
mouth, which looks as though it were
made of pearl and cherries, exquisitely
chiseled by the order of Cupid himself.

We have in this article touched only
a few, far separated points of history ;
but the space between each of these
points might be filled up with tacts
and scenes equally derogatory to hu-

man nature. What we have written
will not fail to leave a lasting impres-
sion of the frailty, vice, and even brut-
ality of royalty in England. But we
shall deceive ourselves if we imagine
this character to be peculiar to royalty
in England. It has been the same
with royalty in every nation, and in
almost every age of the world. The
happy individual exceptions are only
the exceptions to a general rule. Ab-
solute power, power emancipated from,
and lifted above, the restraints of law,
has always been a mighty engenderer of
every vice. The most cruel and brutal
of the Roman emperors — such as Cal-
ligula, Nero, and Tiberius — were men
of ordinary virtue and humanity before
elevated to royalty; but no sooner
were they set free from the social
pressure of society, and elevated to a
post where their will, or caprice, be-
came the only law, than they began to
exhibit the most disgusting, as well as
the most vicious and cruel attributes
of human nature. Lust, and every un-
natural vice, followed in the train of their
cruelty. Our own country, at the pre-
sent moment, is an appalling illustra-
tion of the same tendency of unre-
strained power to corode the whole
moral fabric of society. Since the
election of Lincoln, what, in mockery
and satire, is called " the Government, n
has been allowed to exercise powers
as absolute as any that were ever held
by a Tiberius or a Nero. The people have
permitted the President's will, and even
the caprice of his numerous spurred and
buttoned subalterns, to stand above
the laws. In the whole circle oi' this
degrading power, the honor of men
and the virtue of women have been
treated as marketable commodities.
Washington, which used to be the seat

122

CELEBRATED BEAUTIES OF HAMPTON COURT.

[March,

of social refinement, and of respect for,
at least, the public decencies of life,
has fallen into a Sodom and Gomorrah,
where not a trace of former respecta-
bility and manners is left as a remem-
brancer of departed civilization. It is
a brothel. Even Senators have not
blushed to quarter their female " favor-
ites" upon the Treasury of the Federal
Government. The White House has
become a theatre of obscene jests, and
lascivious laughter. The society of
" Government" circles is distinguished
for nothing so much as its vulgarity,
obscenity, and utter want of manners.
A respectable Member of Congress (our
readers will rejoice to learn that there
is such a man) told the writer that he
did not think any gentleman, who pro-
perly respected his family, would take
his wife and daughters to live in Wash-
ington, in the present state of society,
unless he intended to isolate them as
recluses. Society at the Capital, at the
present moment, has all the vice of the
Court of Charles II. without one re-
deeming atom of its culture and man-
ners. A clergyman, who, in point of
decency, is an exception lo his class at
the present time, after a recent visit
to the Capital, was asked if there was
any such thing as morality left in
Washington, and replied, " There may
be ; but, if so, it probably has the
scurvy terribly." It was a shrewd hit.
Every thing in Washington, from one
end to the other, has the scurvy. Poli-
tics, religion, law, morality and man-
ners, all have the scurvy. All are
sick with a fatal disease that ever
comes of powers and passions elevated
above laws and compacts. Official
circles there, especially, are composed
of suddenly-grown rich fanatics, pimps
and courtezans, who, until recently,

were as poor as Lazarus, both in
money and social position. Profes-
sional colporteurs, tract-distributors,
made unexpectedly rich through Go-
vernment favors and contracts, or
through enlarged facilities for stealing,
become so suddenly emancipated from
the restraints of poverty that they
rush off into the most indecent ex-
tremes of luxury and vice. Not only
in Washington, but all over the coun-
try, the atmosphere is foetid with a
moral pestilence. The foundations of
society seem broken up. The lawless-
ness and the vice of the camp have
penetrated the churches, and all the
avenues of social life are poisoned
with every lust that feeds on luxury
and power. It is not enough to say
that the community is losing its civi-
lization— it is losing its human heart,
and human decency. The example of
the Members of Congress* who quarter
their " female friends" in the Treasury
building at Washington, is followed, in
various ways, by the Provost-Mar-
shals, and all other vagabonds who
feed at the public crib, throughout the
country, until we are reminded of the
words of Lucian, in describing the
most lascivious period of Pome when
he says, "Chastity is so rare, that
only the name of it is to be found ;
and many maintain that this virtue as
well as justice, has long since taken
her flight to heaven, leaving nothing
below but some few ill-drawn resem-
blances of herself."

Before we close this article, let us
return a moment to Hampton Court,
for the purpose of visiting the famous
"Maze" or "Labyrinth," which was
formed in the early part of the reign
of William III. It is located in the
" Wilderness," a short distance from

1805.]

CELEBRATED BEAUTIES OF HAMPTON COURT.

123

the Castle, and formed of hedge trees,
growing so close and matted together
as to make it impossible to see through
the hedge at any point. It is simply
a puzzle, the object being to get into
the centre of the labyrinth, or, being
in, to find ones way out again. A gen-
tleman or lady may be hours, or per-
haps days in accomplishing this feat.
At the present time there is an obser-
vatory, overlooking the maze, in which
a man is stationed to direct visitors
the way in and out ; which he does by
giving the word of command in the
following fashion — "Gentleman with
the white hat will turn to the right/7
" Lady in the blue dress to the left,"
and so on, until the party has learned
the secret of the mazy path. This

guide, of course, is only for the benefit
of visitors who have not the time to
accomplish the, by no means, easy
task of finding1 it out themselves.

We give a correct drawing of this
celebrated Maze, the paths of which
have so often, in the years that have
fled since it was formed, been pressed
by the feet of the celebrated beauties
of the Courts of the British kings.

The black lines represent the hedge
trees, which are as fresh and thrifty
as though they were planted but five
years ago. The reader will, probably,
have to make many attempts before he
will be able to trace with the point of
a pencil the way to the centre of the
Maze.

-*■&■•

EPIGRAM ON THE UNITED STATES.

O full of woes, and moral flaws,

Of broken faith and ruined laws,

Of factious folks, and noisy fools,

Of despotism's guilty tools ;

Of secret crimes and public hates,

Of every sign of sinking States ;

() this ! my country, dear, of thee !

Of thee ! — no longer great, no longer free !

124

THE 'DAMNABLE HERESY OF

[March,

THE "DAMNABLE HERESY OP STATE SOVEREIGNTY"

A " Loyal League Club" of New
York has held a meeting on the death
of Edward Everett, at which John Jay
made a speech, in which he said it was
not for what Everett had done in all the
past career of his life that he was to
be most honored. "It is rather for
what he has said and done during the
stern trials of the last four years in
the simple capacity of a private citi-
zen, to arouse the feeling of American
nationality against the damnable here-
sy of State sovereignty," &c.

We have not quoted this sentence of
impudence and folly for tlfle purpose of
commenting upon the Everett meeting
of a "Loyal League Club." Whatever
disgrace such a meeting could bring
upon the name or memory of a dead
man, was abundantly earned by the
unhappy conclusion of Mr. Everett's
career. Perhaps he merited the dis-
grace heaped upon him by Mr. Jay's
declaration, that he was not so much
to be honored for all he had done pre-
vious to his joining the Abolitionists
in their crusade against " the damnable
heresy of State sovereignty." This is
given as the crowning glory of Ed-
ward Everett's career — he " aroused
the feeling, &c, against the damnable
heresy of State sovereignty." State
sovereignty a " damnable heresy /" That
is 'the new-born slang of the present
hour of ignorance, crime and despot-
ism. It is not yet four years old, Ne-
ver, until the middle of the first year
of Mr. Lincoln's administration was
there found a man in this country so
ignorant, impudent, so foolish, as to

call State sovereignty " a damnable
heresy." We believe that the infamy
of this discovery rests with Mr. Sum-
ner. Does the wretched demagogue
not know what he pronounces " dam-
nable" the Constitution and laws of
his own State of Massachusetts ? That
Constitution starts out with the decla-
ration that " the people of this Com-
monwealth have the sole and exclu-
sive right of governing themselves as
a free, sovereign, and independent Staled
They must be " damnable" wretches,
according to their own Senator's doc-
trine, in his famous oration entitled
" Our Domestic Relations." The same
" damnable pretension of State sove-
reignty" has been affirmed at every
revision of the statutes of Massachu-
setts, since the foundation of the q-c-t-
eminent, in the following style : " The
sovereignty and jurisdiction of the Com-
monwealth extend to all places," &c.
So that not only the Constitution of Mas-
sachusetts, but the title and style of
all its statutes are based upon the
claim of the ll sovereignty of the State.
A " damnable" set they must be, peo-
ple, Constitution, statutes, and all, ac-
cording to their own Senator.

Nor is Mr. John Jay any better off
with his own State of New York,
whose Constitution declares that "The
people of this State, in their right of
sovereignty, are deemed to possess the
original and ultimate property in or to
all lands," &c. So also the statutes of
New York begin thus : " Sovereignty,
jurisdiction" &c. Then Mr. John Jay
must hold the Constitution and statutes

1865.1 STATE SOVEEEIGNTY." 125

of the State of New York to bo " dam- nied to the Slates ?" Who had a right

nable heresies," And the good people to deny them any pow&rs ? The Fede-

of said State may, with the greatest ral Government was the creature of
propriety, return the delicate eompli- the State sovereignties. They made it
merit,. by pronouncing Mr. John Jay. a just what they pleased. It was the
" damnable" traitor, or fool. We have State sovereignties which granted or
no milder term for such men. Either denied whatever powers they chose to
they know themselves to be rank trait" the Federal Government. The powers
ors or impostors, or they are lunatics, of the Federal Government are notde-
To assail State sovereignty as " a dam- nied to the States, but they are granted
nable heresy,'' is to direct a blow at by the States. The States are the so-
the very heart of both the State and vereign grantors of all power, and the
Federal Governments. The Federal Federal Government is the dependent
Government is based upon the sove- grantee, or recipient, of certain defined
reignty of the States. Destroy the and limited powers, to be held and ex-
one, and the other falls. Destroy State ercised in trust for the "general wel-
sovereignty, and the authority of the fare" of the "several States." Logi-
Federal Government vanishes like a cally speaking, therefore, sovereignty
shadow. There is but one theory on does not belong to the Federal Gov-
which this crusade upon the doctrine eminent at all. Its powers are only
of State sovereignty can be explain- derived, or secondary, and therefore
ed ; and that is, the determination of cannot be first, or sovereign. But the
the party in power to overthrow the author of the phrase "heresy of State
State Governments, and establish an sovereignty," says :

entirely new and foreign system upon ttT> ' ,_ _, ... ,.

J o . i. u jtjeiore the Constitution, such sovereign-

their ruins. To an intelligent man ty may ha^ve existed ; it was declai-ed in the

there ought no longer to be any doubt Articles #f Confederation ; but since that it

that such is really the paramount ob- has ceased to exist. It has disappeared and

ject Of the present war. It is to strip been ,ost in tUe supremacy of the national

,1 cu * e ±\ ' t i „: u government, so that it can no longer be re-

the States of their sovereignty, and sinJi . , .,

1 cognized.

them in an abyss of centralized despot-
ism. The ingenuity and craft, and we The extreme foolishness of this as-
might add, impudence, employed in sumption is exposed by simply consi-
this treasonable undertaking, are truly dering that the very act of ratifying
surprising. The whole style of public the Constitution, by the .several States,
debate is designed to gradually blind, was the highest act of sovereignty.
and to lead the people away from the And when rati lied, it was merely the
fundamental principles of the govern- creature and the agent of their sove-
inent founded by our fathers. For in- reignty.

stance, Mr. Sumner discourses about But let us sec where Mr. Sumner lo-

" the [towers denied, to the States." Is gieally lands, when he admits thaf.uu-

this the language of a statesman and der the old Articles of Confederation,

a patriot? Is it not rather the jargon the States were sovereign. Now we

of a cunning conspirator and dema- challenge him, or any other person, [o

gogue? By whom were " powers dti- point out a single power granted the

126

THE DAMNABLE HERESY OF

[March,

Federal Go\ eminent in the present
Constitution, which possesses a single
element of sovereignty that did not
belong to the Federal Government un-
der the Articles of Confederation, when
Sumner admits the sovereignty of the
States. The power to declare war, to
make peace, to enter into treaties, to
maintain the army and navy, belonged
to the Federal Government under the
Articles of Confederation. These were
powers which the several States de-
clared they possessed in the Declara-
tion of Independence, in the following
language : " That as free and inde-
pendent States they have full power to
levy war, conclude peace, contract al*
liances, establish commerce, and do all
other things which independent States
may of right do. Now these sovereign
powers, which the States declared to
be in their right, were delegated to
the Federal Government in the Articles
of Confederation. That is, each State
agreed to exercise its sovereignty in
these matters, jointly with the other
States, through the general ag'ent, the
Federal Government, for the common
benefit. In the new grant of powers
to Congress, in the present Constitu-
tion, there is nothing to be compared,
in dignity, or in the attributes of sove-
. reignty, with these which were dele-
gated under the old Articles of Confe-
deration.

"The "Federalist," a work written
by Madison and Hamilton, and pub-
lished at a period cotemporaneous with
the Constitution, says :

"If the new Constitution be examined
with accuracy and candor, it will be found
that the change which it proposes consists
much less in the addition of new powers to
tha Union than in the invigoration of its ori-
ginal powers. The regulation of commerce,
it is true, is a new power, but that seems to

be an addition which few oppose, and from
which no apprehensions are entertained.
These powers relating to war and peace, ar-
mies and fleets, treaties and finance, with
the other more considerable powers, are all
invested with the existing Congress by the
Articles of Confederation. The proposed
change does not enlarge these powers ; it
only substitutes a more effectual mode of ad-
ministering them."

This declaration of the men who
framed the Constitution, effectually
disposes of Mr. Sumner's assumption
that by adopting the present Consti-
tution the States surrendered their so-
vereignty. But the following passages
f om the " Federalist" are still more
explicit on this point :

"We have seen that in the new govern-
ment, as in the old, the general powers are
limited, and that the States, in all unenume-
rated cases, are left in the full enjoyment of
their sovereign and independent jurisdiction. r'
No. 49. " But if the government be nation-
al with regard to the operation of its powers,
it changes its aspect when we contemplate it
in relation to the extent of its powers. The
idea of a national government involves in it
not only an authority over the individual ci-
tizens, but an indefinite supremacy over all
persons and things, so far as they are objects
of lawful government. * * In this relation,
then, the proposed government cannot he
deemed a national onn, since its jurisdiction
extends to certain enumerated objects only,
and leaves to the several States a residuary
and inviolable sovereignty over all other ob-
jects." No. 39.

How will Mr. Sumner, John Jay,
and the other conspirators against the
sovereignty of States, dispose of this
language of the man who framed and
fashioned the Constitution ? They will
be as silent before it, as the culprit be-
fore the bar 'of offended justice. They
may attempt to evade and to lie ; but
they will not venture into an argument
against it. They know that the pages
of this magazine are open to anything

1865.]

STATE SOVEREIGNTY.

127

they dare attempt to offer in defense
of their monstrous assertions of " the
damnable heresies of State sovereign-
ty." They know that through this
medium they could reach a class of in-
telligent and honest men, who, if con-
verted to their side, would add an ele-
ment of dignity and respectability,
which, without falsehood, they cannot
now claim. A class of men who can
neither be bought nor frightened. But
they dare not accept our offer. They
know that they are the real rebels
against the Government of these States.
They are the conspirators most to be
dreaded — most to be abhorred. Se-
cession is an evil not without remedy.
It simply denies the jurisdiction, with-
out waging any war upon the organic
principles of the Federal Government.
It leaves the life of the States unim-
paired, with sovereign power to re-
unite, or reconstruct the Union again.
But these Abolition conspirators would
assassinate the States, and overthrow
the very foundations on which the
Union was built. Secession is & pro-
digal, who wanders away from the fa-
mily mansion. Abolitionism is & felon,
who stays at home only to murder the
family, and raze the common edifice to
its foundations. The whole burden of
Abolition or " Republican" declama-

tion, in the newspapers, in the pulpit,
in the streets, everywhere, is against
Slate sovereignty. The mass of fools
who echo this stuff, we suppose may
be sincere ; but the leaders — such men
as Sumner and John Jay — know bet-
ter. They deliberately seek to delude
and mislead the people. In the core
of their hearts they are " rebels" to the
government of our fathers, a thousand
times more to be feared and despised
than the most violent secessionist in
the land. What is the duty of the real
friend of the Union, when he hears
these conspirators haranguing the
people on the " damnable heresy of
State sovereignty V Why, to denounce
them to their teeth as traitors, before
the very people they are laboring to
deceive. Unmask their ignorance, or
their hypocrisy, in every place where
they are vending their seditious wares.
So much sacrifice of a man's ease he
owes to his country in these degene-
rate times. Hold the denouncer of
State sovereignty up to the people every-
where, as a conspirator, and a foe to
the Government, who is seeking to un-
dermine that which we have inherited
from the great men of the Revolution,
to substitute in its place a narrow, a
selfish, and implacable Puritan des-
potism.

.<©.

A LATIN EPIGRAM.

BESTECTFULLY DEDICATED TO A DISTINGUISHED " LOYAL." DIVINE, WHO WAS LATELY SURPRISED

kissing one or the lambs of his flock.

Satis Buperque Me benignitas tua

Ditavit!

Indeed, good sir, yonr sweet caressing

M.iy well bo eulled " A Bishop's Blessing 1"

128

THE AMERICAN RACES.

[March,

THE AMERICAN RACES.

Some ten years ago- the writer of
this, through a Cabinet officer and one
of the Regents of the Smithsonian In-
stitute, asked that learned body to
publish a work he had prepared on
the " American Races ;" but it so hap-
pened that a scientific gentleman from
Philadelphia had also asked the Board
of Regents to publish his work on
"American Snakes," and, as their funds
were limited, and they could only pub-
lish one of the works in question, they
of course, in their view, selected the
most important, and voted in favor of
the snakes. Ten years have rolled
round, and one million of Americans
have laid them down in bloody graves
in simple, blind unconsciousness that
their sacrifice was the penalty of an
ignorance so gross, so unmanly and,
indeed, so unspeakably wicked, that
while future generations may lament
it, they will hardly pity the victims.

Europeans, naturally ignorant of the
races of this continent, set up a theory
or assumption that they are all the
same beings, save in colur, and there-
fore should have the same liberty ; and
our "intelligent" classes, writers,
book-makers, artists, poets, &c, accept
the European assumption as true, de-
spite their reason, their experience, and
indeed the daily evidence of their
senses. One hundred years ago, no
one stultified himself, or pretended
even to believe that a Negro was a
blaclc Caucasian, or anything but a
negro in fact, and no such social
monstrosity as a "free" negro, or a
negro thrust into the status of the
white man, was to be found on this

continent. But the mighty events of
1176, virtually overthrowing the Eng-
lish power in America, produced vast
changes in English opinion. No longer
interested in the material prosperity
of this continent, and with every pos-
sible motive to neutralize, to under-
mine, and to render impracticable the
new and dangerous principles estab-
lished by Washington and his com-
patriots, the writers and statesmen of
England not only changed their views
on American affairs, but very naturally
sought to wield the inferior races as
elements of resistance to, if not as means
for the destruction of, the American
■system which so directly threatened
their own. Still interested in the in-
dustry and production of the West
India Islands, they spared the negro,
and from 1776 to 1816 relied solely on
the Indian ; but the war of 1812 bav-
ins: broken down the Indian forces of
the northwest, and substantially " used
tip" that material, they finally resorted
to the negro, and even sacrificed the
vast material prosperity of their island
for the . grander political purpose of
overthrowing American institutions.
Nor in justice to the courage, clear-
sightedness and magnanimity of the
British aristocracy, should we refrain
from giving them the credit of a cer-
tain sincerity in their "anti-slavery"
policy. Their system is based on
distinctions of their own invention —
Kings, Lords and Commons — and they
are necessarily impelled into hostility
against the distinctions made by the
Almighty, in order to preserve their
own.

1865.1

THE AMERICAN RACES.

i*y

Nations, in modern times, are so in-
timately blended together by their in-
terests, that systems having- no natural
or truthful basis must give way to
those founded in reason and in har-
mony with the natural order. Thus
Europeanism or Monarchy, being wholly
artificial, must give way to American-
ism or Democracy, based on the natu-
ral law of equality underlying our
system ; and the only possible hope of
preserving the former even in Europe
depends on perverting the relations of
races, and by " impartial freedom"
with negroes, undermining and de-
stroying Democracy in America. If
this can be done — if the British "anti-
slavery" policy can ever succeed — if in
short, through our own ignorance, im-
piety and crime, we should ever com-
mit social suicide and " abolish slave-
ry," Monarch}7 may not only take a
new lease for a thousand years to
Curne on this continent, but it would
probably outlive Monarchy in the Old
World lor many centuries. All (white)
men are created equal — that is alike —
and as all Europe is Caucasian this
great fundamental, fixed and everlast-
ing law must sooner or later burst
through the unnatural and fictitious
contrivances of European society, and
vindicate the justice and beneficence of
God. But on this continent, where
there are millions of different races,
should their natural relations become
debauched and broken down, Democra-
cy and Democratic institutions would
needs be impracticable until all of
these atmormal and mongrel elements
became extinct; and, tlwrefore, should
their status be changed, and four mil-
lions of negroes amalgamated in our
system, the ruin would be complete,
and Democracy lost beyond all hope

of resurrection for an indefinite period
of probably several centurios.

Of course, there are subordinate is-
sues, and many complications involved,
but this is the problem we are now so
blindly striving to solve. And if ten
years ago every American had com-
prehended this subject, and known the
real nature and true relations of the
American races — however ignorant of
" American snakes" — there would have
been no Abolition party, and conse-
quently no secession party, and the
million of hapless victims to this mon-
strous delusion, now festering in
bloody graves, would be walking-
God's fair earth, and enjoying the hap"
piness He designed for all His innumer-
able creatures.

These preliminary remarks seem ne-
cessary to show the reader the trans-
cendent importance of this subject,
and the pressing and overwhelming
necessity of its examination and com-
prehension by every true American
who desires to preserve Republican in-
stitutions for his posterity, and indeed
who washes to preserve the purity of
his blood as well as the safety and per-
petuity of our political system.

The human creation, just as all other
forms of existence, is a group, family
or genus, composed of a certain number
of species, all of ivhich aregenerically
alike but specifically unlike. Th^s is a
fact, unchanging, indestructible and
everlasting, save by the Almighty
power that made it ; a fact, moreover,
demonstrable, indisputable, and, in-
deed, palpable to the senses as well as
the reason. Nevertheless, not onlv
are the non-scientific multitude ignor-
ant of it, but scientific men have writ-
ten books, given lectures, and devoted
many years of their lives to disprove

130

THE AMERICAN KACES.

[March,

its existence. can know, and therefore it is both im-
It is very wonderful that human pious and absurd to strive to know,
folly, vanity, superstition, imaginary The fact itself confronts us, immovable
interests, or selfish considerations and unchangable, but whether thus
could have thus stultified reason, and fashioned and shaped by the Almighty
even the senses ; but so it is, and Pri- hand at the beginning of all things, or
chard, Lawrence, even Cuvier himself, by subsequent interposition of Al-
to a great extent, ignored and disput- mighty power, is beyond the scope of
ed the fact; while even larger num- human inquiry, and forever concealed
bers of scientific men have so con- from human intelligence. God has
founded and confused themselves, as endowed us with the necessary intelli-
well as their readers, that they never gence to understand it, to deal with i%
could decide satisfactorily whether to adapt ourselves to it, to comprehend
there was a plurality or a unity of our own wants as well as the wants of
races, or, in other words, whether the the lower races in juxtaposition with us,
fact did or did not exist. Prichard, and when we do this, when we exercise
like most of the single-race theorists, the faculties He has so beneficently en-
began with a theory or assumption dowed us with, and adapt our political
that all mankind originated from a system and social regulations to our
single pair or common origin, and then own and their welfare, then we shall-
went to work to collect facts to prove be correspondingly rewarded. But if
his theory, and of course was entirely we set up foolish theories of a single
successful. Others, having no theory race — that white men, mongols, ne-
to uphold, affected liberality, and ga- groes, &c, have all the same nature,
thered innumerable facts, which left and stultifying our senses as well as our
thorn just where they began ; while reason, blindly, impiously and wicked-
others, like Nott and Gliddon, began ly set to work to reduce these foolish
with creation itself, and following theories to practice, then we must be
down the stream of time, came to the punished to the precise extent of our
conclusion of diversity of races in our crimes against nature and our impie-
time. The error in all these inquiries ties to God. Some people interpret
is obvious. The inquirers sought to the Bible as teaching that all mankind
know that which is forever hidden came from a single pair, and therefore
from us — to penetrate into the councils all 7nu$t have the same nature and are
of the Infinite, to lift the veil that the entitled to the same liberty, &c. ; but
Almighty hand has suspended between surely they who also believe in sttper-
Himself and His creatures ; in short, natural interposition need have no dit-
to reveal the mysteries of creation to iiculty in this matter, fur if God did
their fellow mortals. interpose and change the order of na-
lt is a'ur)\)\y fact — indestructible and ture, or, in other words, work miracles
everlasting fact — that the human crea- in such innumerable instances, many
tion is a genus, comprising a certain of which, in comparison, were quite in-
number of species, but why, or when, significant, surely He might do so in
or how this fact was ordained by the this respect of the human creation, a
Almighty we do not know, and never matter of such transceudent, and, in-

1865.J

THE AMERICAN RACES.

131

deed, uncqualed importance.

Tiiu.-j the naturalist and believer in
the Mosaic or Bible interpretation may
perfectly harmonize, and while both
of thorn accept the actual material and
immovable fact of diverse races, palpa-
ble, and indeed unavoidable to their
senses, feel entirely satisfied with their
different explanations of it. It is very
wonderful that any American should
be ignorant, or should dispute the pal-
pable, c very-day fact, that a negro, for
example, in a negro, and is not a white
man — a fact just as evident to his
senses as that a robin is a robin, and
is not a pigeon, or that a bull-dog ts a
bull-dog, and is not a greyhound. It
is still more' wonderful, as well as dis-
graceful, that scientific Americans
have not explained the truth to Euro-
peans. An Englishman, Frichard for
example, in his library in London,
Without ever seeing a negro, declares
this negro a " colored man," or a man
like himself, save in complexion, which
litter oddity, by the way, he cannot
account for, and admits, unless caused
by some mysterious atmospheric in-
fiuence, is not produced by any of the
natural agencies known to human
science. He says this negro is a co-
lored Caucasian, or man like himself,
and the intelligent and scientific Ame-
rica)), who has perhaps seen a negro
every day of* his life, stultifies his rea-
son, and tramples on the daily evi-
dence of his senses, and accepts the
Englishman's assumption. lf'Prichard,
without leaving his library in London,
were to set up an assumption that
there was only a single species of
Hfiakes on this continent, that they
were all rattlesnakes, or had all the
same nature, whatever their color or
external appearances, not one man,

woman or child would accept his theo-
ry. They would say, " our senses as
well as our reason tell us otherwise."
Every day we see black snakes, gar-
den snakes and " copperheads," as well
as rattlesnakes, and though all snakes,
and belonging to the great family of
snakes, they arc specifically different
snakes, having, to a certain extent, a
different structure and different na-
ture.

So of birds, of fishes, of dogs, of all
possible forms of life ; and if a Euro-
pean who had seen none of these things
should set up a theory of a single
species, or that they wero all the same
save in certain external appearances,
as color, &c, why he would be regard-
ed as an impertinent fool, of course.

And, indeed, our uneducated people,
governed by their instincts and com-
mon sense, recognize the negro — a ne-
gro— differing from themselves as the
several species of animals differ from
each other, and shrink with utter dis-
gust from equality or amalgamation
with this different being. But the
" educated" people, your divines, law-
yers, politicians, &c., accept the for-
eign and absurd dictum of Prichard
and other (in this respect) ignorant
writers, sitting in their libraries in
London or Paris, and declare that the
"common" people are prejudiced
against "color," while they, enlighf.
cued and liberalized by education, rise
above this popular "prejudice," ami
accept the European theory that the
negro is a "colored" Caucasian, or
man like themselves save in the c('o«*
of his skin ! But, as observed, the ab-
ject and disgraceful submission of the
scientific men of America to this ab-
surd European assumption of a single
human race is most wonderful. Dit*

132

THE AMERICAN RACES.

[March,

tinguished historians and scholars,
like Bancroft, Motley, Lieber, &c,
may be excused, for they are ignorant
of even the rudiments of physical
science ; but the so-called scienti-
fic men, like Professor Draper and
others, who slavishly accept for-
eign nonsense on this subject, and
gravely " investigate the causes of
color" in the negro, should be, and
some day will be, regarded with su-
preme contempt. Even the great body
of medical men, limited as their ac-
quirements usually are to the routine
of their profession, will not escape
popular condemnation on this subject,
for this being an affair of fact, and not
of speculation, they should have com-
prehended it and dealt with it thus,
instead of passively assenting to an
absurd assumption resting on foreign
ignorance of the fact in question. It
is, then, once more repeated, that the
human creation is a g-enus, family or
form of existence comprising a certain
number of species, made so by the
hand of the Creator, and must remain
so as long as the present creation
lasts ; but whether so at the begin-
ning of all things, or by subsequent
interposition of Almighty power, we
never can know, as we never should
strive to know.

A genus comprises several species,
each the work of God, as Caucasians,
Mongols, Malays, negroes, &c. ; but a
species may comprise any number of
varieties, as Anglo-Saxons, Celts, Scla-
vonians, &c.f the result of accident,
climate, time, religion, political sys-
tems, &c

In the present state of our know-
ledge, we do not know the actual num-
ber of species, but we do know that
the Caucasian and negro, or the white

man and typical woolly-headed African,
stand respectively at the head and
base of the generic column.

Starting with the negro, the sim-
plest and least developed in his organ-
ism, the next above him has all that
he has, but in addition, has something
that he ha3 not, or rather it may be
said, has a nwe elaborate and com-
plete structure, with of course corres-
ponding qualities or capabilities. Spe-
cies have a limited capacity of inter-
union, but unless it be in some of the
very lowest forms of organic life, those
who belong to separate genera are for-
ever separated. The negro, the lowest
in the scale, is absolutely human, and
separated from the animal world by a
gulf as impassable as that which sepa-
rates the Caucasian, the most elevated.

Species of men, as observed, are per-
mitted to violate the natural order to
a certain extent, and intermix with
different species, for God has endowed
them with reason and free will, just as
they are permitted to do so in other
respects ; but there is a limit to this
sin. Animals, on the contrary, g'u'.ded
by their instincts, never violate na-
ture. The Caucasian may mate with
a negress, but the lion never mates
with the tigress, and the progeny of
this abnormal union is feeble and
sterile, and never exists beyond the
fourth generation.

If, for example, the modern abolition
theory were put in practice, and a
thousand or so of those who believe in
it, each with a negro wife, were iso-
lated in an island in the Pacific, it
would simply be a qnes.ion of time
when they would die oat and become
utterly extinct. The lower races ap-
proximating closer to animals, and
guided by their instincts to a certain

1865.]

THE AMERICAN RACES.

133

extent, shrink with horror from sexual
intercourse with other species. Thus,
when African explorers come into ne-
gro villages where white men had
never been seen, the females run off
and hide themselves — thus, too, while
our Indian savages will beat and mur-
der their (white) female captives,
they never violate them ; and even in
the great Sepoy rebellion, though a
race approximating to our own, it is
believed there was not a single in-
stance among its huge horrors of the
violation of a European woman. It
is only where juxtaposition and un-
natural social relations exist between
different species that mongrelism is
generated, and, as observed, this mon-
grel progeny is feeble and sterile, and
tends continually to extinction. On
the contrary, the more extended the in-
tercourse or amalgamation of branches
or varieties of the sdme species, the
more vigorous and potent the people.
That nation or people most generally
intermixed with those who belong to
the same species will always be the
most enterprising and powerful, while
that which is most isolated and sta-
tionary will be most feeble and con-
temptible. Hereditary royalty well
illustrates this isolation. To preserve
its prestige with the multitude, it is
limited within its own circle, and thus
violating the laws of consanguinity, it
is punished in its miserable progeny,
who finally become idiotic or impotent,
and thus extinct. It is a startling
thing to realize, but absolutely true,
that the hereditary royal families of
our time are — naturally considered —
the meanest and most degraded fami-
lies in their respective countries. And
it is, perhaps, even more startling still
to realize the truth that there is a cer-

tain morbid resemblance between a
mulatto and a " Crown Prince." Both
are abnormal — the mulatto in his
structure, the prince in his vitality,
and both ending in absolute extinc-
tion.

The intermarriage of Caucasians for
four consecutive generations will end
in extinction, either through idiocy or
impotency, and hybrids or mulattocs
of the fourth generation are as inca-
pable of reproduction as mules.

That which the Eternal hand has
fashioned is immovable and everlast-
ing, and the vain and sinful attempt of
human creatures to set up distinctions
of their own invention in the form of
kings, is finally punished by the abso-
lute extinction of their progeny. And
the human impiety and crime which
ignore the distinctions of race, and
force different species, as Caucasians
and negroes, into " impartial freedom,"
or, in other words, to live under the
same rules and regulations, finally
ends in total extinction.

Summing up the foregoing remarks,
the whole subject may be simply
stated thus : The human creation is a
genus or family, composed of a certain
number of species, each differing from
the others in its nature and capabilL
ties to the precise extent that it differs
in its physical structure ; and as spe-
cies are the work of the Creator, no
accident, time, climate or human power
can ever change or modify them to the
millionth part of an atom. But each
of these species may give origin to
any number of varieties, which latter
are the result of chance, time, climate,
and human forces, as we witness in the
form if nations, &c. Finally, every
attempt to violate the order of nature,
to equalize different species, as Cau-

134

THE AMERICAN RACES.

[March,

casians and negroes, and to set up
artificial distinctions, as those of "roy-
alty," are alike forbidden, and alike
punished by the Almighty in the
idiotcy, impotency and ultimate ex-
tinction of the miserable progeny.

Anthopology is so entirely a science
of this day. that we do not know the
actual number of species as yet com-
prising" the human creation. We do
know, however, that there are six of
these species, though our knowledge
of them is very imperfect.

These are — 1st. The Caucasian, white
or historic race. 2d. The Mongol, the
Chinese or Asiatic. 3d. The Malay, or
Oceanic. 4th. The Indian, or Ameri-
can. 5th Esquimaux, or polar race,
and, finally, lowest in the scale of or-
ganism, the negro, or typical wooty-
headed African. Of these it is only
proposed to discuss the specific charac-
ter of those inhabiting this continent
— the Caucasian, Indian and negro — in
actual juxtaposition, and ignorance of
which has already cost a million of
American lives, and may involve the
destruction of American civilization.

There are on this continent about
thirty millions of white people, tweniy-
aeven in these States, two and a-half
millions in the British North American
Provinces, and perhaps half a million
more in Cuba and Porto Kico.

These are the only white people pro-
per, who have white governments
that act on white people. In those of Ca-
nada and Cuba, as in Massachusetts, ne-
groes may become " citizens," but they
are exceptional and so few that we
may say these are all white govern-
ments. On the contrary, Jamaica, all
the British and French islands, though
presided over by European officials,
are governments made and adminis-

tered for negroes, and as the white
element is limited and is rapidly rot
ting out through the blood of th<
negToes, they must be classed as mon
grel governments. There are in Ame
rica about twelve millions of negroes,
four millions of slaves in Brazil, four
millions "freemen" in the South and
Central American States and the is-
lands, and some four millions in do-
mestic subordination among- ourselves.

In Brazil they are slaves, the own-
ers, to a great extent, having negro
blood in their veins, and the whole
social fabric, resting solely ox\ a pro-
perty basis, may be abolished in a
month, and the bandfull of pure whites
massacred or driven out, as in Hayti
sixty years ago*

Finally, there are four millions in
their natural position of domestic sub-
ordination in juxtaposition with us. It
is indeed four millions, for whatever
numbers may be murdered in the
impious and lunatic attempt to force
them into the condition of our own
white people, none will remain in that
condition, it being as eternally impos-
sible as to g'ivc them our color.

The negro is a tropical race, and
without him some sixty degrees of
lattitude in the centre of this continent,
with the extensive islands locked in
its bosom, must remain forever a bar-
ren and useless waste. His mat of
woolly hair protects the brain from
the rays of a vertical sun, and with
millions of scbacious glands covering
the surface of his body, he is protected
from all the malarious influences which
produce yellow fever, and is so fatal
to the white man.

It is true that the white man can
live in the tropics as well as else-
where, but only as a master or mer-

1865.]

THK AMiRICAN RACKS.

lob

chajit and mechanic in the cities, pro- they tend to Africanism and regencra-

tected from the sun. The negro isolated, tion. There can be no such condition

is of necessity a useless heathen, while as "freedom f that is, the negro, made

the white man alone is as incapable by the Almighty a different being, can-

of growing tropical products as he is not exist in a common condition with

incapable of reproducing his kind the white man, otherwise human power

without the existence of the female. would override that of God. He has

Thus the brain, the intelligence or made the negro, and therefore design-
guidance of the Caucasian, and the ed him for a purpose, and no human
muscles or labor of the negro, are the power can override this purpose and
elements, and the only possible ele- compel whites and negroes to fulfil a
ments ot tropical civilization. It were common purpose or "impartial free-
as eternally impossible to grow the dom." " Impartial freedom," therefore,
products or to preserve civilization in is not a condition, it is a phase, a so-
the great tropical centre of our conti- cial monstrosity, a passing diseasa
nent without white men and negroes from which both whites and negroes
in their normal relation to each other, are dying out on the coast, as observ-
or without what the lunatics of the day ed, while in the interior the natural
term slavery, as it is impossible to grow order is being restored — the negro is
oranges in Nova Zembla, or, indeed, returning to his Africanism, and then
as to preserve animal life without fulfils the ordinance of God and multi-
food. The "abolition of slavery" by plies his kind.

the monarchical governments of the old The Creator, of course, designed

world has degraded and is destroying juxtaposition, otherwise, as remarked,

the whites, while the sole hope for the the most genial and fertile portion of

negro is in a return to his native AM- our continent must needs be common

canism. In Hayti, where he is iso- wastes, and it is equally obvious in

lated, especially in the interior, he has the fact that the negro multiplies more

lost his French traditions and gone rapidly in the South than he does iso-

back to his African dialect, and save lated in Africa. The end of British

on the coast, where there is a consider- "philanthropy," or so called abolition

able mongrel element, there is proba- of slavery in the tropics is, then, a

bly not a single negro who ever heard huge African heathenism, covering

of, or knows anything of the great some sixty degrees of latitude. The

Abolition soldier and statesman, Tons- whites are rapidly rotting out through

saint. mongrelism — the mongrels have a low

Hayti illustrates all ; if still isolated, grade of vitality, and they must perish

fifty years hence its inhabitants will be within a certain time, and when all

as absolutely African as if they were this has disappeared, and the negro

born there, and then having recovered blood untainted with admixture, they

from amalgamation, they will multiply will again multiply themselves. What

themselves as in Africa. a startling truth to realize, that the

In Jamaica, and all the other islands over-worked and under-fed laborers of

they, like the whites, tend to extinc- England have been taxed four hundred

tion on the coif.st, while in the interior millions, that the owners of 'West In-

136

THE AMERICAN RACES.

[March,

dia property have sacrificed some
live hundred millions, and the "poor
whites" have been poisoned and de-
stroyed by amalgamation, and after
all, the only hope, the single bright
spot in the future to the poor negro, is
African regeneration, or to get back to
bis fetiches and snake worship ! This is
life, and again he fulfils the command
of the AUnig-hty and multiplies his
kind, not so happily or healthily as in
juxtaposition and domestic subordina-
tion to the white man, but isolated
heathenism and domestic subordination
are the only possible conditions of ne-
gro existence.

In addition to the whites and negroes,
there are about fifteen millions of In-
dians or aboriginals on this continent.
The islanders discovered by the Span-
ish adventurers were most likely a dif-
ferent species from the people of the
main land, but this must always re-
main a matter of conjecture, for they
have so utterly disappeared, that
though there are some mongrels in
Cuba and San Domingo, it is believed
that there is not a single native left.
On the continent, from Cape Horn to
the Columbia River, they are the same
species, and the difference between the
Peruvians of Pizarro's day, the Aztecs,
&c, of Cortez, and the Brandts and
Powhattans of northern latitudes, is
simply the difference of locality and
accident, such as we witness in the
modern nations of our own race. In-
deed it may be doubted if the differ-
ences that at this moment separate an
English earl from his peasants are not
relatively greater than those separat-
ing the wild Huron of the Northern
Lakes from the peaceful and so sup-
posed semi-civilized Peruvians, Aztecs,

Toltecs, &c, encountered by the Spa-
nish adventurers.

There have been intrusive people,
cast-away ships' crews, indeed we
know that the "Northmen" made a
lodgment on this continent in the eighth
century. They piade, or began certain
improvements, built cities, organized
governments, laid the foundations, in
short, of States, or organized political
communities, and their descendents, in
some respects, continued these things,
but flnallv overwhelmed through amal-
garnation with the dominant native,
they disappeared, and the debris left
behind, the decaying structures, the
roads, bridges, aqueducts, &c, that
our learned American " antiquarians"
find in such profusion in Yucatan and
Central America, are the only traces
of their existence. The white man, or
Caucasian, is the only historic race,
the only race that creates material for
history, the only race that has suffi-
cient mental power to permanently im*
press itself on the material world, and
therefore all the "antiquities" of Ame-
rica, which Schoolcraft, Squier, Be
Ilass, and others, delight in, are the
sheerest balderdash imaginable. There
are no antiquities in America ; there
is nothing, save as observed, the slight
traces of cast-away ships' crews, &c,
that indicate the temporary presence
of Caucasian adventurers, at rare in-
tervals and remote distances. As ob-
served, there are, perhaps, fifteen mil-
lions of native Indians, or aboriginals,
on this continent, but this must include
some three millions of mongrels, or
mestizos They are separated into a
great number of nationalities, or wo-
called republics ; but there are no ele-
ments of nationality anywhere, or in

1865.1

THE AMERICAN RACES.

137

fact, whatever be the number of so-
called republics, any republicanism.
There are ten or twelve republics in
South America, five in Central, and
one (Mexico) in North America ; but
the materials, except in Brazil, are es-
sentially the same. In the South Am-
erican republics there is a large negro
clement. It is smaller in Central Am-
erica, and none at all in Mexico. As
a whole, about one-seventh is mongrel,
one-thirtieth, perhaps, .white, with the
remainder pure Indians, and the de-
gree of order, production, in a word,
civilization, is of course in precise pro-
portion to the white element. But the
sterility and low grade of vitality in
the mongrel, makes it only a question
of time when it will become entirely
extinct, and from the Rio Grande to
Brazil there will be a complete resto-
ration of the Indian, and with him the
condition in which he was found by
the Spanish conquerors in the fifteenth
century. The laws of organization are
indestructible, and as mongrclism dis-
appears in the islands, and the negro
returns to his original Africanism, so
on the main land, it is only a question
of time when the mixed element be-
comes extinct, and the Indian, or abo-
riginal element, is restored to its ori-
ginal condition. This must be the final
result — in the islands, and the great tropi-
cal centre of the continent, a huge Afri-
canism— on the table lands, and on either
side of the former, an Indian heathenism
scarcely less repulsive or more incompa-
tible with American civilization. This
is no speculation, but an obvious and
inexorable consequence of existing
facts ; isolated and left to themselves,
a time- must come when the negroes of
the islands arc restored to their origi-
nal Africanism, and the aboriginal

element, sloughing off all that the Spa-
niards engrafted on them, must return
to their original Indianism, from the
Rio Grande to Brazil.

Such, then, is the great problem of
our times — the most tremendous prob-
lem ever solved in the experience of
mankind. The vulgar notion that the
Indian must die out, is met by the fact
that there are now fifteen millions on
this continent, and by the still more
stupendous/actf that neither the white
man nor the negro can ever grow the
products, or become the permanent in-
dustrial elements of the table lands, or
tierras templades of "North and South Am-
erica. God has made these races, like
all His other works, for specific pur-
poses— the negro as the industrial
force of the tierras calientes, the Indian
for the table lands, and the white man,
with his higher nature, for their mas-
ter and protector. Negroes can live
longer in Nova Scotia than in the high
latitudes of the Valley of Mexico, though
there is never any frost, for the highly
oxygenated atmosphere rapidly kills
them. And though it is not so abso-
lutely certain that the white man can-
not become a laborer, the large expe-
rience of the Mexican war fully justi-
fies this conclusion. God has not made
things so imperfect as to permit the
Caucasian to exterminate the lower
races, by industrial competition, but
on the contrary, has wisely and bene-
ficently provided for all His creatures,
by adapting their actual physical
structure to certain great centres of
existence.

The problems, then, for us are these:
1st. Shall we comprehend the real na-
ture of the Indian and negro, and be-
come their guides and protectors, and
render the future civilization of Ameri-

138

ROGER B. TANEY AND EDWARD E.EiUTT.

[March,

ca the grandest the world ever saw ?
2d. Shall we permit a huge African
heathenism in the islands, and a vast
Indian barbarism on the main land,
and thus, while rendering the finer
portion of America a barren waste,
cramp and confine our civilization to
its present limits ? 3d. Or finally, in
the impious and monstrous attempt to
practice the European theory of a sin-
gle race, shall we strive to " abolish"
the distinctions that separate us from
these races, and ruin our republican in-

stitutions, and indeed debauch and de-
stroy American civilization for centu-
ries to come ? These are the only pos-
sible solutions, and in the mean time
we are striving with ail our might to
accomplish the latter, and have alrea-
dy sacrificed a million of our brothers
to ruin American civilization; but we
cannot destroy ourselves if we would,
and shall therefore finally come back
to common sense, and restore civiliza-
tion south of us, instead of destroying
it in our midst.

-•♦•-

KOGER B. TANEY AND EDWARD EVERETT,

The death of the venerable Chief
Justice, we may say the last Chief Jus-
tice, because his place is filled by a
man who is neither a lawyer, a Chris-
tian nor a patriot, has passed off
with hardly a notice from the press,
except some characteristic slang from
the Puritan backbiters. The Atlantic
Monthly speaks of him as a "bad man/'
who was " prone to the wrong." But it
is not for us to defend the great, the
good, and the wise jurist Roger B. Taney
from the shafts of Abolition hate.
History will vindicate his fame. Our
purpose is to offer, in connection with
this abuse of Chief Justice Taney, some
remarks on the fulsome and ill-deserved
praise which is poured out from the
ample stores of ignorance upon the
name of Edward Everett. Did we not
feel that justice is mocked, and the in-
telligence of the American people in-
sulted by this senseless eulogium of a

man who had forfeited all claim to the
respect of wise and patriotic men, we
should remain silent on the subject.
We do not deny that Edward Everett
was a fine scholar, and, in a certain
sense, a poet. Though we are not
aware that he ever wrote a line of
verse, yet he was, in the gifts of ima-
gination, a poet, and he was never
anything more. Few men in our
country have had a more briliant im-
agination than he — and in no effort,
except where the imagination could be
chiefly employed, has he ever succeed-
ed beyond the bare limits of intellec-
tual respectability. He was the most
mediocre of statesmen. Indeed, it can-
not be said that he ever rose to true
statesmanship at all. In Congres he
failed utterly. He was absolutely
nothing in debate. He left no mark
behind him when he left that body.
He could deliver a poetical address on

18G5.]

ROGER B. TANEY AND EDWARD EVERETT.

139

the landing of the Pilgrims. Thero
his forte was at an end. He was a
man of letters, and that was the most
of him. Lis habit as a student made
him conservative, and he long stood
out an honest example of fidelity to
conservative principles in New Eng-
gland. Then he was the target of the
whole artillery of Abolition abuse.
Next to Daniel Webster he was the
best abused man in New England by
the Abolition scditionists. They never
ceased to malign him until he burst like
a bubble into their pool of fifthy
waters. What did he tell these con-
spirators even after they had opened
the ball of the present war ! In a let-
ter addressed to a meeting at Faneuil
Hall, February 2, 1 SGI, he said :

"To expect to hold fifteen States in the
Union by force is preposterous. The idea of
civil war is too monstrous to be entertained
for a moment. If our sister States must
leave us, in the name of Heaven let them go
in peace."

Have we forgotten, shall we ever
forget the perfect hell of abuse which
was let out upon him on this occasion.
The very creatures which now crawl
like swarming flies about his bier, then
denounced him as a "knave" or a
"fool." But let us hear Edward Ever-
ett again before he sold himself to the
foes of his country:

"The suggestion that the Union can be
maintained by numerical predominance and
military prowess of one section exerted to
coerce the other into submission is, in my
judgment, as self-contradictory as it is dan-
gerous. It conies loaded with the death-
Bmoll from fields wet with a brother's blood.
If the vital principle of all republican govern-
ment is, '*the consent of the governed,
much more does a Union of co-equal sover-
eign States require, as its basis, the harmony
of its members, and their voluntary co-oper-
ations in its organic functions."

On another occasion he exclaimed :

41 Fellow-citizens of Massachusetts, it
is my duty to tell you that our own
State has broken the compact which
our fathers made with the people of
those States."

This was the record of Edward Ev-
erett's life up to the time when he
turned his back upon himself, three
years ago, and became the most sense-
less and unrelenting of all the Puritan
savages of New-England. Those fa-
natics now cover him from head to
foot with the slime of their praise, not
because they, in their inmost hearts,
respect his memory, but because he
died in their vile service — the most
abject of all the tools of their barbar-
ous despotism. It is their own unholy
cause they are selfishly lauding in his
name. Had he not sold himself to
them we shudder to think of the names
they would call him. Have we forgot-
ten their abuse of Webster after his
death? But how much more honored
is Webster in their abuse than Ever-
ett in their praise? Wendell Phillips
now gives Everett this eulogy that
"at seventy years of age, with such
a career behind him, he stood up be-
fore twenty millions of his country-
men and said ' 1 was mistaken.1" The
amount of which is, being translated
into the language of truth, that Ed-
ward Everett, at seventy years of age,
repents of the honorable and patriotic
record of a lifetime, and dies in the
embraces of the Constitution-abhorring
Abolitionists. This inglorious end will
remind the student of classic history
of the fate of the celebrated philospher
Zarma, who, after having lived many
years teaching and practising all vir-
tues, wound up his career by commit-
ting suicide. The Lydians, who had
worshipped his genius, tore down his

140

ROGER B. TANEY AND EDWARD EVERETT.

[March,

statute from the Temple and buried it
with his body in the grave, in order
that all remembrance of him and his
crime might be banished from the
minds of the people. Even so will the
memory of Edward Everett be dis-
missed from the temple of just fame.
After a long" life of honorable record in
opposition to the sedition and treason
of the Abolitionists, he dies at last one
of the most senseless and implacable
of their number. He has gone to his
grave in companionship with such de-
testable names as Garrison, Wilson,
Sumner and Phillips ; men in whose
company Edward Everett would have
blushed to be seen only five years ago.
He has gone to his grave leaving these
conspirators behind him boasting that
he died confessing that his whole life
was a mistake and a i'oWy. It is a
doubtful question which history must
settle, whether the pity of mankind
will ever be able to rescue his name
from contempt. How unlike that of
Edward Everett was the end of Roger
B. Taney ! He died as he had lived,
a great and true man. He left no
chance for the sneering Abolitionist to
Bay above his grave : " He confessed

that he was mistaken." He was not
mistaken. All the years of his life
were, not as Edward Everett died say-
ing his were, u a mistake." Taney
faithfully clung to the last to the
theory and spirit of the government as
it was established by our fathers. In
the midst of the pressure and threats
of fanaticism, where Everett so inglo-
riously broke down, Taney stood erect
invulnerable and undismayed ; exact-
ing respect and fear even from the
men who would gladly have taken his
life, because thy could neither in-
timidate nor suborn him. So little did
Sumner respect the memory of Everett
that he refused to deliver an oration
upon the occasion of his death. The
hatred which he had borne him all the
years of his life could not be appeased
even by the truculent and cowardly
close of his career. But Sumner, base
as even he is, is compelled to respect
the name of Roger B. Taney, because
he died as he had lived, bravely de-
fending what he had adopted as the
fixed principles of morality and law;
while Everett died false to his country
false even to himself.

EPIGRAM.

TO THE SWARMS OF OFFICERS WHO NOW FEED AT THE TUBLIC CRIB.

Ilic vlvimus ambitlosa
Panpertate omnes !
Here we all live, both small and great,
And strut, and lie, and steal in state 1

EDITOR'S TABLE.

—Hon. S. S. Cox's speech in Congress, on
the resolution to admit members of the Ca-
binet to seats on the iloor of the House, was,
wo think, the best sustained piece of humor
and ridicule ever delivered before that body.
At a time when there is so little to respect,
and so much to despise in the action of Con-
gress, a good, genuine laugh, such as Mr.
Cox treats us to, is a great sweetener of the
temper. Mr. Cox cannot do a better thing
for the remainder of his term than to keep
the country laughing at the follies of Con-
gress. It may save many a man of naturally
good intentions from the profanity of curs-
ing and swearing. To illustrate — after the
whole country has so long had its brows con-
tracted in the act of execrating Stanton, Mr.
Cox gives us a chance to unbend a little by
laughing at him, after the following fashion :
" The Speaker raises his gavel, when a rum-
ble, like the temblor which precedes the earth-
quake in volcanic regions, sounds through
the corridors ! All eyes are fixed upon the
door ! Voila ! the thundering Secretary of
War appears, (Great laughter.) Upon his
brow the very picture of Mars, to threaten
and command! Itoorn for the War Minis-
ter ! His flowing beard and spectacled face,
so familiar to our eyes,

Assume the god, affect the nod,
And seem to shake the spheres. ''

• * * In plain attire, but p <tential

mood, he comes ! Far off his coming shines;
rn form and seeming but a man, but, in ima-
gination like the angel of the pit, floating
many a rood on the burning marl of war. "
We have not space to give the whole of this
picture of the minister's entrance upon the
iloor of the House. It is all inimitable.

— A rabid dog has been killed in Washing-
ton. A Washington paper states that the
Common Council will offer a bounty on the
heads of all dogs found at large. Will not
Buch a measure be regarded as a blow aimed
at Congress '(

—We should think that the cup of the hu-
miliation of the people of New York was now
full to overflowing. If it can hold any more
it must be a vessel of uniraagined dimen-
sions. A committee of Supervisors has been
to Washington to try and get the wrong of
an excessive quota corrected. This commit-
tee went first to Stanton, then to Fry, then
to Lincoln, supplicating and entreating them
not to commit an act which they declared to
be an outrage upon law and justice. Mr.
Lincoln says to New York, I want so many of
your people for my sla;ighter-pens. The
authorities reply to him that the number of
citizens he demands for the sacrifice is exces-
sive, unfair, and illegal. The spirit of the
answer is, can't help that—fair or not fair, ille-
gal or not, the draft must go forward— 1 ward
your men, and I will have them. And the good,
patient supervisors — the amiable, docile hu-
man asses— come quietly home, and set about
complying with the "unfai*-, unjust, and ille-
gal demand" for the lives of the trembling
citizens. O, it is a lovely country! O, it is
a land of liberty ! The people of New York
are a great, free, happy, and plucky people !
They are as free and happy as the negroes of
Africa, who, whenever their king so pleases,
are summoned to have their throats cut to
appease the devil. Happy, happy New York-
ers ! Happy negroes of Africa ! Happy
everybody whose lives belong to their gra-
cious Sovereign ! Hail ! the country of Wash-
ington ! All hail !

11 The land of the free and the home of the
brave!"

— The editor of the New York Freeman's
Journal says of Chief Justice Taney: "He
was not venal, not corrupt, not a respecter
of persons ! Good God ! how the Yankees
must have hated such a character!"

— An editor in Ohio twits Inn. Wade of
making money selling hogs. Is that what
makes the old rascal such a hare t

142

EDITOR S TABLE.

[March,

— A deputation of U. S. Senators waited
upon the President to urge upon him to re-
store Gen. Butler to command. The names
of these Senators did not appear. If we can
learn them, we shall publish them, in order
that thos« who have the misfortune to be
their neighbors may look out for their gold,
jewels and spoons. There is a commission
which Butler might nil with entire credit to
himse f and his party. The great success of
his powder-ship suggests it to our mind. Ap-
point him at the head of a new bureau for
the manufacture of volcanoes. This is a mag-
nificent idea, and in harmony with all the
great plans of the Republican party. What
a great people we should be with a hundred
thousand volcanoes in our grasp ! We would
not only make an end of Dixie in a few hours,
but we would blow France and England to
the devil in less than no time. As all the
civil zed world are making impudent faces
at us in this our day of trial/ we could just
teach them all a lesson, by blowing all crea-
tion to pieces in less than half an hour. But-
ler is just the man to superintend this grand
enterprise. From the obliquity of both his
physical and moral vision, his volcanoes
would undoubtedly be constructed on the
screw-auger plan, which would make them
still more dreadful engines of destruction.
tl M-tj '<>r- General Battel; Constructor and Com-
mander of all the Volcanoes" is a title which
ought to be grand enough to suit the views
of his admirers.

—Mi-. Sumner is happy. He shakes hands
with himself and all Africa. He has suc-
ceeded in getting a negro, who is as impu-
dent as himself, and who is from the same
State, admitted to practice law in the Su-
preme Court of the United States. After he
was admitted to this high honor in the city
of Washingt m, he had to go to one of Lin-
coln's while negroes to get a pass to leave the
city, for his horn.) in Boston ; as there is a
military order at Washington that no colored
persons shall leave the city without a pass.
Is that the way they treat "a man and a bro-
ther?" Anna Dickinson declares that the
time will come when we shall see negroes
seated on the bench of the Supreme Court
of the United States. We shall undoubtedly
soon have apart negro delegation in Con-
gress from the State of Massachusetts. There

is one comfort, and that is, that the black
negroes of Massachusetts cannot very well
be a worse set of men than her white ones
are in Congress.

—A letter- writer describes the President
as being "very sanguine of a speedy over-
throw of the rebellion." The President has
been very sanguine ever since he came into
j.ower. So much so that he might float a
ship in the blood he has shed.

— Senator Chandler, in one of his boozy
nights, declares that "the mildest law he
would pass would be to cast every rebel into
the sea." Before that law is passed we ad-
vise Chandler to learn to swim.

—There is a credulous editor in Boston
who believes Ben. Butler is honest. To
think so is to accuse the Almighty of holding
out deceptive signs in the human face. The
following translation of one of Martial's epi-
grams is marvelously to the point :

Thy beard aud head are of a different dye ;
Short of one foot— distorted in the eye 1
With all these tokens of a knave complete,
If thou art honest, thou'rt a dev'lish cheat.

—A letter- writer, who thinks the public
must be interested in all the minute doings of
Old Abe, informs the public that "he always
shaves himself, both as a saving of money
and time." Is he sure that such is the mo-
tive? The tyrant of Sicily never would
trust himself in the hands of a barber for
fear that justice would cut his throat.

The following verses were written in
England in 168(i That was just 179 years
ago. They might have been written in

America yesterday :

Uuhappier age who ever saw,
When truth doth go for treason ;

Ev'ry blockhead's will is law,
And coxcomb's sense is reason.

Religion's made the bawd of state,
To serve the pimps and panders ;

Our liberty a prison gate ;
And scoundrels are commanders.

O how wretched is our fate !

What dangers do we run ?
We must be wicked to be great ;

And to bo just — undone.

1865.]

editor's table.

143

—The twaddle of the anti-State Rights, and
pro- negro- constitutional- amendmentists in
Congress exceeds in stupidity, we think, all
human jargon ever before heard in this world.
One believes there is no doubt about the
power of Congress to do what it thinks best
for the nation, without reference to State Gov-
ernment. Another thinks slavery never ought
to have been protected by the Constitution—
that the Constitution being wrong in this
matter, it is the duty of the Republicans, now
they are in power, to amend it. Another, a
luminous intellect, thinks that because the
Constitution was framed to "secure the bles-
sings of liberty," it intended to give the Fede-
ral Government power to abolish slavery.
This is about the sura of congressional wis-
dom on this question. If the people will send
such fools and rascals to Congress, they well
deserve all the disgrace and confusion which
must result from their legislation.

— There is a Spanish saying that, " Italia
para nacer, Francia para vivia, Espana
para moria" i. e. Italy !s the best place to
be born in ; France to live in ; Spain to die
in. Or, Italy has the best air ; France the
best kitchen ; Spain the best graveyard. But
now, America clips the laurels of Spain ; or,
if we have not the best, we certainly have the
largest grave-yard. Our whole country is a
grave yard. All the land is full of the bones
of our people. We have murdered millions,
as an offering to the ebony gods of Africa !
We are wor e than African cannibals ; for they
kill men to eat them, while we murder only
for vengeance. They may plead hunger. We
have only the excuse of revenge. We call
them savages, barbarians. What then, are
we?

— A Republican editor says he "goes for
his country right or wrong." And, bad man
and traitor that yon are, it does not make a
bit ol difference whether it is right or wrong.
Your patriotism is as much at fault as your
morality. The real friend to his country will
be as swift to expose and condemn what he
finds wrong in it, as he is to praise and foster
all that is right and just.

— A cotemporary calls the leaders of the
Republican party, Puritans or round-heads.
Hut is it, correct to call such flats "round-
heads I"

— The "government telegraph" send3 over
the lying wires the declaration that "Presi-
dent Lincoln will give a hearing to any per-
son of influence from the rebel States." The
way things are shaping on both side? of the
lines, we very much fear that President Lin-
coln may be compelled to give a hearing to a
respectable person of the rebel States, by the
name of General Robert E. Lee, between this
time and mid summer. If the " rebels" should
finally do what Lee proposed a year ago,
abandon the Atlantic cities, the tide of war
wili set this way with a fury and a vengeance
which may well send dismay into the hearts
of the negro-worshipping heathen of Washing-
ton. We should be glad to warn these luna-
tics— to force a grain of senst into their cra-
niums, but it is useless to try i*. They are
given up to believe a lie that they may be
damned.

— A correspondent asks us if history gives
any other example of a free people throwing
away their liberties as if from curiosity to see
how despotism would seem ? Perhaps not of
a people ; but history give3 the case of an in-
dividual, in the person of Empedodes, who
threw himself into the flames of Mount JEtna,
in a transport of curiosity, to know from what
source those eternal fires were derived. Was
not his foolishness something like a match for
our people who seem to take pride in the act
of vaulting, at one bound, into the lowest
depths of despotism ?

— James the First once heard a sermon,
in which there was more politics than reli-
gion, and he asked Bishop Andrews what he
thought of it, and whether it was a sermon or
not. "Please your Majesty," replied the
bishop, "by very charitable construction it
may pass for a sermon." But the great ma"
jority of the bloody harangues in our pulpits
at, the present time can never pass for ser-
mons, not even by that charity which covers
a multitude of sins. They are too monstrous
and too brutal, both in spirit and principle,
ever to pass for Christian sermons.

— A cotemporary thinks that "Gen. Builer
will come out all right yet because we all
know that he is not to be beaten at an argu-
ment " Ifhecanuot be beaten at an argu-
ment, he may be at a whipping -post, or at
a kicking-post, as in Lowell, for instance.

*4:4:

editor's table.

[March, 1865.

— When Stafford wa3 Lord -Lieutenant of
Ireland, he made an order that no Peer should
enter the House of Lords without leaving his
sword with the doorkeeper. Many cowardly
Peers had already complied with this insolent
order, when the Earl of Ormond, being asked
for his sword, told the doorkeeper that if he
"repeated that demand he would run him
through the body." When Staflord heard of
theso brave wouls, he said, "we must some-
how gain this man over to our side." Such is
the power of even one brave man who dares
defy the insolence of usurpation. Would to
God that we had a lew such in these times of
universal cowardice. A lew brave men who
should defy the tools of lawless power, would
end the reign of shume and despotism.

— The New York Times complains that the
bounty system has filled our armies with worse
than useless soldiers, because they are only in
the way, and demoralize all about them.
Another journalist thinks " these ragged ras-
cals ought to fl^ht well." Gustavus Adol-
phus, King of Sweden, used to say that "a
man made a better soldier in proportion as he
was a better Christian." Is this the reason
why almost every one ol the fanatical minis-
ters who have enlisted in the New England
and Western States have turned out to be
such miserable soldiers and rascally cowards ?

— The eagerness with which men and wo-
men adopt the sayings ol Lincoln reminds
us of a disgusting picture, painted by Gala-
ton, which represented Homer vomiting pre-
cious stones, and the other poets standing
around swallowing what came out of his
mouth. Not that Old Abe Vomits pr. cious
stones; but, whatever he does throw up, the
dirty Loyal Leaguers swallow with the glut-
tony of hungry dogs.

— "Madam," said Jeremy Taylor to a mo-
ther, "if you do not choose to till jour boy's
head with something, believe me the devil
will." There is a Spanish proverb, from
which the learned prelate# borrowed this
thought, viz : — The devil tempts every man,
but idle an man tempts the devil."

— There is a strange charge, and we hope
an unjust one, against Mr. Lincoln out in
Oregon. A correspondent Irom Portland, in
tnat State, writes as tollows :— "Strange

things occur out here almost every day.
There are two women living but a few miles
from this place, who have between them seven
new-born infants. One has three daughters,
and the other two daughters and two sons.
Well done for Mr. Lincoln."

—An editor, who would b3 a wag, and
whose name we charitably suppress, has writ-
ten an epitaph on that intolerable scold and
nuisance, Anna Dickinson, which entirely
fails of doinu: justice to the subject. The fol-
lowing old English epi ram, which is nearly
a century old, comes much nearer the point:
Hero is my much-loved Anna laid,

At re. t from all her earthly labors
Glory to God ! Peace to the dead !
And to the ears of all her neighbors

— The following receipts are said to be ex-
cellent:— To make a President — take two
grains of sense, fifteen grains of nonsense,
eight grains of smut, eleven grains of mirth,
and twenty pounds of lamp-black, mix well
together, and pack loosely on the skin of a
gorilla.

For making a Secretary of State: — take ol
fustian seventeen grains, of duplicity twenty
grains, of bravado twenty grains, ol false-
ho d twenty-tv.o grains, mix well in whiskey,
and use on all occasions for both foreign and
domestic consumption.

To make a Secretary of War: — take equal
parts of the biggest liar, and of the most im-
pudent rascal you can find, ana roll them
well together, until they are of one substance.
This fellow is not to be beat.

For making a United States Senator: — take
the carcase of one cegro, one bushel of lies, a
gallon of creosote, and fifty pounds of bom-
bast; simmer until they are completely mixed.
Then, it you value your own peace, stop
your ears, or get out of the way as soon as
possible. And be sure to keep away from
Boston when the U. S. Senate is not in
session.

— Lord Coke wore, as a motto to his ring,
these words ;— s

Lex est tutissime cassis.
The law is the surest helmet.
Our judges, many of them at least, think
differently, for they have treated the laws as
not of the slightest importance, when they
conflict with the whim of some furious imbe-
cile with a sword and epaulettes.

THE OLD GUARD

A MONTHLY JOURNAL, DEVOTED TO THE PRINCIPLES OP 1776 AND 1787.

VOLUME III. — APRIL, 1865. — No. IV.

HISTORY OF THE NORTHERN WAR OF TARIFFS UPON THE SOUTH

Is it now too late to publish the
truth with a hope of arousing some"
thing like a sense of honor and justice
in the minds of the northern people
towards the South 1 Has a third of a
century of wrong and falsehood seared
the northern consciences as with a hot
iron ? Dare we speak the truth in the
midst of this reign of ignorance, intol-
erance and lust of power ? Dare we
ldbk history in the face — that history
which will proclaim to future genera-
tions a record of our financial despot-
ism ; of our downright plundering of
the southern people ? That system of
tariffs which has been called " The
American system" is in reality a north-
ern system against the South. It was
designed to enrich the North at the
expense of the South. From 1816 to
1840 it was used as a sectional party
issue in every presidential campaign.
It was first used as an instrument of
moving the sectional pecuniary ambi-
tion of the northern people ; and then
of engendering hatred, malice and re-
venge hetween the two sections. The
simple effect of our high protective ta-

riffs was to take money from the pock-
ets of the southern people, and put it
into the pockets of the capitalists of
the North. The South declared its in-
ability to save itself from financial ru-
in under the tariff of 1816. But, re-
gardless of this earnest protest, the
North made a still higher tariff one of
the issues of the presidential canvass
of 1820. Again the South expostulat-
ed. But in 1824 the North made still
higher duties an issue of the campaign.
Earnestly, almost beseechingly, the
South remonstrated. To no purpose.
In 1828 the North put still heavier
burdens upon the South, and proudly
named its oppression " The American
system," and plainly gave the South
to understand that this system of
southern depletion for northern plethora
was one of the fixed institutions of the
land. This system really divided the
confederation into two sections — one
of which was the recipient of constant
increasing bounties from the govern-
ment, and the other was compelled to
pay them. It was a sharp financial
war between the sections. The South

146

HISTORY OF THE NORTHERN WAR OP

[April,

did not complain of duties for mere
revenue. It contended, and very just-
ly, that the Constitution gave the Fed-
eral government power to levy duties
only for revenue purposes; and that all
tariffs for protection were, therefore,
unconstitutional. The tariff of 1828
was for the protection of a single
branch of manufactures, viz.: the
woolen. Then the design was stretched
to cover every branch of northern
manufacture. But as the northern
States were not strong enough in Con-
gress to carry those measures through
alone, they roped in Illinois and Mis-
souri by adding a protection on lead,
and Kentucky by a protection on hemp.
By this cunning piece of management
the northern manufacturing interests
succeeded in fastening upon the coun-
try all those high tariffs which were
ruinous, or, to say the least, oppres-
sive to the southern States.

There was a time when indigo was
one of the principle productions of the
Sout. Under the protection extended
to it by the British government of a
sixpence sterling per pound, it was a
source of great income, especially in
the Carolinas and Georgia. In HT9
there were exported 1,100,000 pounds.
After this protection was removed the
exportation of indigo fell off, in 1800,
to 400,000 pounds ; and in 1826 to
5,000 pounds. Here, then, was a fair
field for the protective principle if such
were to be the settled policy of the
government. The southern statesmen
were opposed to all tariffs for protec-
tion, on the ground of their unconstitu-
tionality ; but they said " If you are
determined to have the sijstem, let it be
ah'ke over northern and southern pro-
ductions." In vain 1 The temper of
the North was to protect its own

wares by high duties, which the South
must pay. Every demand for fairness
was answered by new and heavier
burdens upon the South. When the
tariff of 1828 was before Congress, Mr.
Benton moved an amendment to in-
clude indigo in the articles to be pro-
tected. We shall here give an extract
from Mr. Benton's great speech on the
occasion, which, if any northern man
can read without feeling the blush of
shame burning his cheeks, he will
show to the world that he is utterly
destitute of a conscience : —

"I expect a unanimous vote in favor of my
amendment (to protect indigo). The North
should vote for it to secure the life of the
American system, and to give a proof of their
regard for the South — to show that the coun-
try south of the Potomac is included in the
tariff bill for some other purpose besides that
of oppression. The South itself, although
opposed to the further increase of duties,
should vote for this duty, that the bill, if it
parses, may contain one provision favorable
to its interests. The West should vote for it
through gratitude for fifty years of guardian
protection, generous defense and kind assist-
ance which the South has given it under all
its trials. I feel for the sad changes which*
have taken place in the South during the last
fifty years. Before the Revolution it was the
seat of wealth as well as prosperity. Money
and all it commanded abounded there. But
how now ? All this is reversed. Wealth has
fled from the South and settled in the re-
gions north of the Potomac, and this in the
midst of the fact that the South, in four sta-
ples alone, has exported produce since the
Revolution to the value of eight hundred
millions of dollars, and the North has ex-
ported comparatively nothing. Such an ex-
port would indicate unparalleled wealth, but
what was the fact ? In place of wealth a uni-
versal pressure for money was felt — not
enough for current expenses — the price of
all property down — the country drooping
end languishing — towns and cities decaying,
and the frugal habits of the people pushed
to the verge of universal self-denial for the
preservation of their family estates. Such

J 805/|

TARIFFS UPON THE SOUTH.

147

a result is a strange and wonderful phe-
nomenon. It calls upon statesmen to en-
quire into the cause ; and if they inquire
upon the theatre of this strange metamor-
phosis, they will receive one universal an-
Bwer from all ranks and all ages, that it is
Federal legislation which has worked litis ruh}.
Under this legislation the exports of the
South have been made the basis of the Feder-
al revenue. The amount annually levied
upon imported goods to defray the expenses
of the government are deducted out of the
price of their cotton, rice and tobacco, either
in the diminished price which they receive
for those stap'es in foreign ports, or in the
increased prur_ which they pay for the arti-
cles they consume at home. Virginia, the
two Carolinas and Georgia, may be said io
defray three-fourths of the annual expense of
supporting the Federal Government ; and of
this great sum annually furnished by them,
nothing, or next to no'hing is returned to them
in the shape of government expenditures. That
expenditure flows in an opposite direction-
it flows northwardly in one uniform, unin-
terrupted and perennial stream. This is the
reason why wealth disappears in the South
and rises up in the North. Fede.iai legisla-
tion does all this, It does :t by the simple
process of eternally taking away from the
South, and retu'.min^ nothing to it. If it re-
turned to the South the whole, or even a
good part of what it exacted, the four States
south of the Potomac might stand the action
of this system, but the South must be ex-
hausted of its money and its property, by a
course of legislation which is lorever taking
away and never returning anything. Every
new tariff increases the force of this action.
No tariff' has ever yet included Virginia, the
two Carolinas and Georgia within its provfc
fcions, except to increase the burdens imposed
on them. This one alone presents the op-
portunity to form an exception by reviving
and restoring the cultivation of one of its an-
cient staples, one of the sources of its wealth
before the Revolution. The tariff of 1828
owes this reparation to the South, because
the tariff of 181G contributed to destroy the
cultivation of indigo — sunk the duty on tho
foreign article from twenty-live to lifteen
cents per pound."

These remarks of Col. Benton de-

serve to be read and re-read. They
are the words of a man who could not
be accused of any especial leaning' to-
wards the South. They were not ut-
tered in any partizan spirit in apoliti-
cal campaign. They are the sober,
earnest words of a patriot and a states-
man, which cannot fail to leave a pro-
found impression upon the mind of
every candid reader. But in vain did
this great statesman of the West ap-
peal to the North to show the sense of
a common justice towards the South.
This amendment was coldly rejected.
Imagine the case reversed — that the
South, having a numerical preponder-
ance in Congress, voted high duties
upon every one of her own staples,
while refusing to include a sinede arti-
cle of northern production. How long
would the New-England States have
remained in the Union under such acts
of injustice and oppression on the part
of the South? How long would any
northern State have peaceably borne
such a wrong ? It is a fair question.
for the mind of an honest man, how
long ought any State to bear it ? For
one we make bold to answer not long !
The Union was established for the
common benefit of all the States. It
was no part of the compact that one
section should rob the other. It was
never designed that duties should be
laid to protect the wares and produc-
tions of one section at the expense of
the other.

The Union was not yet out of its
swaddling-clothes when the North be-
gan to agitate the subject of protec-
tive duties. The South adhered to a
strict construction of the Constitution,
and held that Congress had no power
to impose duties except for purposes
of revenue. In this controversy Mr.

148

HISTORY OF THE NORTHERN WAR OF

[April,

Ames of Massachusetts paid the fol-
lowing compliment to the generous
spirit of the South at that time : " The
gentlemen from the southward who
suppose their States most likely to be
effected by a discrimination in the
tonnage duty, have conducted their
arguments with a candor which does
honor to their patriotism " Mr. Ames,
and, indeed, the whole North, had
reason to be agreeably surprised at
the patience with which the South ac-
quiesced in the heavy burdens of pro-
tective tariffs. This systom was com-
menced on the part of the commercial
or northern States the very first Con-
gress after the adoption of the Consti-
tution ; and it was steadily pursued
in despite of all the remonstrances and
appeals of the South, from that time to
to the final rupture.

The amendment offered by Mr. Benton
to the tariff of 1828 was seconded by Mr.
Ilayne, senator from South Carolina, ac-
companied by the following remark : —

"lam opposed to this bill in its princi-
ples as well as in its details. It could as-
sume no shape that would make it acceptable
to me, or which would prevent it from opera-
ting oppressively and injuriously upon the
southern States. With these views I had de-
termined to make no motion to amend the
bill ; but when such motions were made by
others, and he was compelled to vote upon
them, he knew no better rule than to en-
deavor to make the bill consistent with itself.
With a fixed resolution to vote against the
bill, I still consider m3rself at liberty to assist
in so arranging the details as to extend to all
portions of the country, as far as may be
. practicable, equal protection, and to distrib-
ute the burdens of the government equally,
in order that its benefits as its evils may be
fully tested. As a southern man I would ask
no boon for the South ; but I must say that
protection of indigo rests on the same prin-
ciples as every other article proposed to be '
protected by this bill."

This was certainly very temperate

language for a man who felt that his
State was wronged. It evinced the
moderate temper of a thoughtful
statesman and patriot. But it was all
lost upon the North. The proposed
amendment was not only defeated,
but, as if to insult the southern States,
the duty on indigo was still further
diminished by the very bill which in-
creased the duties on the productions
of the North. It was on this occasion
that Mr. McDuffie, of South Carolina,
delivered his celebrated speech in the
lower house of Congress, which caused
him to be ever after regarded with
feelings of resentment by the great
body of the Northern people. Of the
justice of his speech we did not in-
quire ; but the northern press, the ser-
vile instrument of New-England cupid-
ity and intolerance, commenced a war
upon him which did not end even at
his grave, for it pursued his memory
with relentless hate long alter his
death. The following- passage will
give the reader a fair idea of this cele-
brated speech : —

"Sir, if the union of the States shall ever
be severed, and their liberties subverted, the
historian who records these disasters wiJl
have to ascribe them to measures of this des-
cription. I do sincerely believe that this
government' cannot exist a quarter of a cen-
tury under such a system of legislation.*
Sir, when I consider that by a single act like
the present so large an amount of money
may be transferred annually from one part
of the community to another — when I con-
sider the disguise of disinterested patriotism
under which the basest and most profligate
ambition may perpetuate such an act of in-
justice and political prostitution — I cannot
hesitate to pronounce this very system of in-
direct bounties the most stupendous instru-
ment of corruption ever placed in the hands
of public functionaries. Do we not perceive

*The Union Instil just twelves oyoarvorqunrtoroi
a century after this remarkably prophetic speech.

1865.]

TARIFFS UPON THE SOUTH.

149

at this very moment the extraordinary and
melancholy spectacle of less than one hund-
red thousand capitalists by means of this
unhallowed combination, exercising an ab-
solute and despotic control over the opinions
of ten millions of citizens?"

Little less decided was the language
of Mr. Rowan, of Kentucky, on the
the same occasion : —

" I am not opposed to the tariff as a sys-
tem of revenue, honestly devoted to the
objects and purposes of revenue ; but
when perverted by the ambition of po'itical
aspirants, and the secret influence of indi-
vidual cupidity, to purposes of individual
and sectional ascendency, I cannot be se-
duced by the captivating names or terms,
however attractive, to lend it my individual
support. * * * * I am one of the organs
here of a State that, by the tariff of 182-1, has
been chained to the car of New-England
manufacturers — a State that has been from
that time, .and is now, groaning under the
pressure of that unequal and mijust measure
— a measure from the pressure of which,
owing to the prevailing illusions through the
United States, she now saw no hope of escape
by a speeey return to correct principles. * *
* * The hemp, iron, and distilled spirits
of the West will, like the woolens of the
eastern States, be encouraged to the extent
of the tax indirectly imposed by this bill up-
on those who buy and cons n me them. To
this tax upon the labor of the consumers, my
individual opinion is opposed."

The tariff bill of 1824 was carried
after a protracted and sharp debate of
ten weeks, by a vote of 107 to 102
in the the House of Representatives,
and by 25 to 21 in the Senate. No
southern State voted for it, and every
member from the South protested
against the measure as a robbery of
the southern States, It was a north-
ern measure against the southern
interests. It divided the country into
two unequal parts by which the strong-
er fleeced the weaker of its earnings,
by demanding tribute in the shape of

duties upon all articles of its consump-
tion. Had the South no reason to feel
agricved at a measure which protected
northern hemp, iron, lead, and manu-
factured wares, while it refused pro-
tection to indigo, and other southern
productions ? Once the northern ma-
jority consented to a small protective
duty upon sugar — but why? Not as
an act of justice, not as a measure of
friendly conciliation towards the South
— but as a bribe to get the vote of
Louisiana, which was necessary to
carry through the bill of high protec-
tion to all northern productions. It
was for precisely similar reasons that
hemp was included in the list of* pro-
tected articles — to gain the vote of
Kentucky. As soon as Massachusetts
imagined that these high protective
duties could be kept up without the
vote of the State of Kentucky her
representatives moved to strike out
the duty on hemp. But a more care-
ful canvass of the matter proved that
the vote of Kentucky would be neces-
sary to carry the bill, and then hemp
was replaced in the list of protected
articles. If we dare to tell the truth
about the matter, the whole history of
this legislation has been, on the part
of the North, one of bribery, corrup-
tion, and of the most crafty oppression
of the southern States. The extract
we have given from Mr. Benton's
speech, in this article is b^y no means
an overdrawn statement of the insults
and wrongs the South has suffered at
our hands. Can we wonder that the
people af those States look back with
a thoughtful gaze to their condition
under the colonial rule of Great Bri-
tain, when the South was the great
centre of weath and prosperity on this
continent? For more than a century,

150

HISTOKY OF THE NORTHERN WAR OF

[April,

preceding the Revolution, the South
enjoyed this uninterrupted flow of
wealth and greatness. When did she
lose it? She knows, and the North
knows, and the civilized world knows
when she lost it. No amount' of false-
hood on our pa^t can ever alter the
eternal fact that from the hour she en-
tered into company with the North
she grew sick. Her soil was the
same, her climate was the same, her
domestic institutions were the same,
her exports were mainly of the same
kind, 1 hough enormously increased,
and yet she constantly declined in com-
panionship with the North. In IT 60 the
imports into South Carolina and Vir-
ginia were $7,025,000. The same year
into New York, Pennsylvania and all
New England only $3,075,500. At that
time the two above named southern
States imported nearly as much again
as all the New England States,and New
York and Pennsylvania together. The
following table shows the sad change
that came over the prosperity of the
South after' she united her commercial
destiny with the North :

1832— Imports into South Caro-
lina and Virginia $1,750,000

1832 — Imports into New York

alone 57,000,000

1857 — Imports into the northern

States 300,000,000

1857 — Imports into the southern

States 34,C00,000

At the same time nearly two-thirds of
the exports of the country were of
southern origin, as will be seen by the
following figures : —

1850 — Exports of southern or-
igin $198,389,351

1859 — Exports of northern or-
igin 78,217,202

Thus we see that the South was over
one hundred and twenty millions of dol-
lars richer in productions than the
North, while the North was two Tiun-

dred and seventy-two millions richer in
imports. Confessedly a hard bar-
gain for the South. She pro-
duces nearly two-thirds of the na-
tions wealth, yet from the system of
federal legislation imposed by northern
majorities, she shares only one-ninth
of the profits. It is through the opera-
tion of protective tariffs alone thai
wealth has flowed in one continuous
stream from the South to the North.
If the design of the federal legislation
had been for the sole purpose of bring-
ing ruin upon the planting States ifc
could not have been more cunningly
devised. In fifty years the South has
paid over one thousand millions of dol-
lars for the support of northern manu-
factures ; and for which she has never
received one cent's benefit. The only
answer to all her just complaints has
been plenty of abuse, insults, and still
higher tariffs. From 18 1G to 1832
there was in the federal legislation a
regular ascending scale of protective
duties. In 1833 the burden was so
great that South Carolina passed an
act nullifying the tariff of 1832, and
compelled the North to recede by al-
tering the obnoxious act.

When the bill of 1832 was brought
before the Senate, Gen. Smith of Mary-
land made a powerful appeal to the
North to desist from laying' further
burdens upon the southern States. He
said :

"We have arrived at a crisis. Yes, Mr.
President, at a crisis more appalling than a
day of battle. I abjure the Senate to pause,
to reflect on the dissatisfaction of all the
South. South Carolina has expressed herself
strongly against the tariff of 1828 — stronger
than other states are willing to speak. Bat,
sir, the whole of the South feel deeply tho
oppression of that tariff. In this respect
there is no difference of opinion. The South

18G5.

TARIFFS UFON THE SOUTH.

151

— the whole South considers it oppressive..
They have not all spoken, but they will
speak ; and it will be with a voice that will
not implore, but will demand redress. I am,
Mr. President, one of the few survivors of
those who fought in the war of the Revolu-
tion. We then fought for liberty— for equal
rights. Let us discard sectional interests —
study only the common weal, and thus re-
lieve the oppressions of the South."

On the same occasion Mr Haync, of
South Carolina, made a most patriotic
and conciliatory speech, in which he
said : — ■

"Let not gentlemen so far deceive them-
selves as to suppose that the opposition of
the South to. the protective sj'stem is not
based upon high and lofty principles. It
has nothing to do with party politics, or the
mere elevation of men. It rises far above
all such considerations. Nor is it influenced
altogether by calculations of interests ; but
it is founded upon much nobler impulses.
The spirit with which we have entered into
this business is akin to that which was kin-
dled in the breasts of our fathers when they
were made the victims of oppression ; and if
it has not displayed itself in the same way it
is because we have ever cherished tbo
strongest feelings of confraternity towards
our brethren, and the warmest attachment to
the Union. Sir, I call upon gentlemen from
every section of the Union to meet us in the
true spirit of conciliation and concession.
Remove, I earnestly beseech you, this never-
failing source of contention. Dry up at its
source this fountain of the waters of bitter-
ness. Restore that harmony that has been
disturbed. It is in your power to do it this
day ; but there is but one means under
Heaven to do this, namely, by doing equqj, jus-
tice to all. Be assured that he to whom the
country shall bo indebted for this blessing
will be considered as the second founder of
the republic."

Alas ! all these patriotic words
were cast like pearls before swine.
The North, inspired only with a lust
of gain and power, could see nothing
but an occasion of still further draining
the South to 1111 its own coffers. The

tariff bill of 1832 whs scornfully, defi-
antly passed. South Carolina nullified
it on the ground of its being unconsti-
tutional and oppressive. President
Jackson at first threatened to coerce
South' Carolina, but that idea was
abandoned almost as quickly as made,
and Congress and the North fell back
upon the admitted necessity of imme-
diately altering the tariff bill which
caused this action on the part of South
Carolina. In his message to Congress
General Jackson recommended a modi-
fication of the tariff so as to render it
less oppessive to the South. Mr. Clay,
the great leader of the tariff system,
patriotically came forward with a new
bill which met the views of South
Carolina and restored peace to the
country. Of this new bill, Mr. Cal-
houn said : —

" I will make but one or two observations,
Entirely approving of the objects for which
the bill was introduced, I will give my vote
in its favor. He who loves the Union must
desire to see this agitating question brought
to a termination. Until it shall be termi-
nated we cannot expect the restoration of
peace and harmony. The general principles
of this bill receive my approbation."

This was the way "rebellion was
put down" in South Carolina in 1833
— by the North instantly receding
from its unconstitutional and oppres-
sive measures. The New England
States bitterly opposed the conciliation
The obnoxious tariff was mainly for
their benefit, and they would sooner
have seen the Union lost than to lose
the occasion for fleecing the great
wealth-producing States of the South.
In reply to Mr. Webster's remark that
he saw nothing to create alarm, Mr.
Clay repied : —

"Is the President's declaration in his pro-
clamation that the burdens oIl the South

152

HISTORY OF THE NORTHERN WAR OF

[April,

ought to be relieved nothing? Is the increasing
discontent nothing? Is the tendency of re-
cent events to unite the whole South noth-
ing ? How, I ask, is the system to be sus-
tained against the whole weight of the ad-
ministration, against the united South, and
against the increased impending danger of
civil war ?"

Thus ended the great tariff war
upon the interests of the planting-
States, which had continued, with in-
creasing exactions, on the part of the
South, from 1816 to 1832. It was
used by the northern party in every
presidential campaign during this pe-
riod. It was a northern agitation—
a sectional agitation — designed to give
great gains to one portion of the coun-
try at the expense of the other. It
was, as we have said, a cunningly de-
vised system of northern pethora by
southern depletion. It drained the life-
blood from the veins of the South to
fill the enormous heart of northern
avraice It was an injustice, a wrong
which no man of honorable instincts
will say the South was under any obli-
gation to submit to, without using

every means, within the grasp of sov-
ereign States, to right its wrongs.

After the settlement of the tariff
agitation by this compromise of 1833,
the northern malcontents pitched upon
slavery as a new source of agi-
tation and sectional conflict. The
long tar iff- war had begotten a spirit
of hatred in a considerable portion
of the northern mind towards the
southern people ; and anti-slavery, in
one shape or another, was soon made
to supply the space of sectional
agitation made vacant by the set-
tlement of the taviiT question. In
all these sectional conflicts the South
has been the victim of northern
agitation, of northern aggression.

If any man can show to the con-
trary let him come forth with - his
rebutting facts and we shall cheer-
fully give them to our readers in the
pages of this journal. The future his-
torian of these conflicts will find it
difficult to account for the Ions: endur-
ance of the South under the sense of
these wrongs. The truth is that
"slavery" so far from being a cause of
southern restiveness, has been precise-
ly the reverse — the cause of patience,
forbearance and long endurance. Ne-
gro servitude is an institution which
needs rest ; absence of turmoils and
of political changes- Then, the effect
of the institution upon the public mind
of the superior class, is eminently
quieting and conservative. Where
this institution prevails society knows
comparatively nothing of the sharp and
uncertain contest for daily bread and
daily gains, which causes a perpetual
warfare between capital and labor in
other sections, and leaves society torn
and lacerated by ten thousand oppos-
ing interests. Here all is unrest. A
peevish uncertainty leaves everything
in an unsettled state. Religion, poli-
tics, morals, and manners here, in
the North, are subject to changes al-
most as frequent as the moon. A
large class live by agitating, by mak-
ing new opinions, and by upsetting old
opinions. There is some kind of a
warfare upon everything and upon
every body. Such a state of society
may be favorable to the production of
a sharp, angular, busybody character,
but not favorable to permanency
in political or civil institutions, The
labor institutions of the South are free
from all this turmoil. There the daily
bread and the daily gains come as reg-
ular as the sun rises and sets. As the

1865.]

TA1HFF3 UPON THE SOUTH.

153

seasons come ; and from day to day,
and year to year, they are the same.
The capitalist and the laborer are re-
moved from all temptation to cheat
each other. The negro does the work,
for which he receives a life's mainten-
ance, and where he is a thousand
times better off than in any other por-
tion of the globe inhabited by his race.
It is the natural conservatism or re-
pose of this system, which has ren-
dered the South opposed to agitations
and changes of every description.
That which the professed agitators of
the North call the cause of the present
conflict is precisely the thing which
has kept it off for a third of a century.
If the South had been as restless and
as factious in its character as we of
the North, the conflict would have come
in 1816, or in 1820, or in 1824, or in
1828 — at any time after the inaugura-
tion of a sj'stem of federal legislation
which was designed to enrich the
North by robbing the South. The
majority of the southern people were
of the opinion that the preservation of
their domestic institution, or at least,
its greatest usefulness, required peace ;
and this feeling, undoubtedly, caused
them to remain passive under a s}7stem
of federal legislation which they- de-
clared to be unjust and oppressive.
But the conflict came at last. It is a
crop of dragons from our own sowing.
Wo had no right to expect that the"
Union would last, with one half making
war upon the interests and institutions
of the other half. The debates in
Congress for half a century show that
the South has been more attached to
the Union than the North. And we
believe that even to-day it. would bo

easier to bring a majority of the south-
ern people back into the Union with
guarantees that it would in all res-
pects continue just as formed by our
fathers than it would to bring the
North to give those guarantees. The
northern love for the Union was a com-
mercial love. That of the South wag
more of a political and civil love.
There was more interest in the northern
attachment, more principle in the south-
ern. The only hope of saving the
Union is by equalizing these forces of
interests and principles in both sections.
If we will not, on our part strive to do
this, we are simply cheats and liars
when we pretend that we wish to save
the Union. A union for the benefit
and glory of the North alone, without
reference either to justice, or the inter-
ests of the South, is a thing that no
honorable man desires to see. Let us
have back the old Union of co-equal
sister States, and let all federal legis-
lation be for the benefit of every sec-
tion alike, and let each section mind
its own business in relation to the in-
stitutions and constitutional rights of
the other, and then the compact will
last in peace forever. Such a Union
we believe to be reattainable. At
any rate if it is not it is the fault of the
North. It is because we do not seek
for it. It is because we seek for con-
quest and plunder, and are willing to
murder millions of men to satiate this
unquenchable appetite. God of mer-
cy 1 God of eternal justice 1 put rea-
son into our brains, put humanity into
our hearts and cause us to return to
the paths of our fathers ! They are
the paths oi peace.

154 DOWN IN THE WOODY HOLLOW [April,

DOWN IN THE WOODY HOLLOW,

BY C. CHAUNCEY BURR.

O, in a dream my heart last night,
Was filled with rapture at a sprite,

Which came and stood before it long ;
For I was dreaming long last night

About the maid of all the throng
Who danced with me when I was young,
And all my little verses sung,

Down in the woody hollow,

For I was dreaming long last night
Of all the dark and rapid flight

Of years I've come too quickly through;
And in a strange, un earthy light,

Like star-beams shining in the dew,
I saw the image of one blest,
Whom long ago I laid to rest

Down in the woody hollow.

'Twas " Nan," the girl of all the rest
My childish heart did love the best ;

She was so beautiful and still,
And lay so quiet on my breast ;

Her blue eyes fixed upon the rill,
That came along just at our feet,
A-listening to the murmurs sweet,

Down in the woody hollow.

The old folks often times came out,
To look us up — and walk about

Down by the streamlet, under hill,
Just where we caught the -speckled trout ;

But ' ' Nan" and I were sitting still,
Where old folks never thought to look,
O'er in the glen beyond the brook,

Down in the woody hollow,

And to my inward fancy's sight,

All these came back again last night,

And smiled and made me very glad ;
For I was dreaming long last night ;

But in the morning I am sad.
'Twas ouly dreaming I was blest,
For " Nan" and oid folks still do rest

Down in the woody hollow.

1365.]

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

155

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.
A NOVEL.

BY THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH.

CHAPTER VII.— (Continued.)

How the world misjudged this man !
But it was not the world's fault. I
handed him back the book.

" You have promised to keep my se-
cret," said he. " I spend nothing on
myself ; but I have on others for many
years, wherever I think it deserved.
It is my only relief from the terrible
remorse that weighs me down. But it
makes no diminution to my income.
Everything I touch prospers. Even
that ridiculous Museum, which ruined
its former owner, yields me a hand-
some profit. By the by, you must
visit that. Your name will be left
with the doorkeeper. You will find a
deal to interest you there. Come when
you like — but not if it wastes your
time. Time is money — remember
that."

The doctor came, pronounced the pa-
tient all right, and so I went off to my
breakfast, leaving Sharp, for all I
knew, to luxuriate on the red herring
left from the night before.

From this date began my intimacy
with old Sharp. Every one was
amused and ai.iazcd when they heard
of it, attributing it to the fact of my
nursing" him all night through his ill-
ness. People thought that the "old
wretch," as they called him, had one
redeeming trait in his character. Cap-
tain Berkeley told me, before a crowd
of the officers, that I had bound myself
apprentice to Sharp to learn the art of

making money ; and Tom Brown
called us " Sharp & Co." But all that
wore off, and people found other topics
for discussion. I used occasionally to
drop in at the Museum, and some-
times I would meet the old man there.
Then he came to the printing-room
more frequently. One way or other I
saw a good deal of him.

He never lost an opportunity to im-
press on me lessons of economy, or
modes of making money, all of which
I listened to without reply. One piece
of advice I took, however. I was
looking at the collection of minerals in
the Museum, during a half hour's lei-
sure at noon, when he came in.

" Do jon understand mineralogy or
geology ?" he asked.

"No ! I scarcely know one mineral
from another."

" Learn both those sciences. The
knowledge might be profitable some-
time. Even a smattering is better
than nothing. I picked up some
knowledge of the kind when I was
working at my trade, and that enabled
me to tell gozzin when I saw it, and so
I was led to buy the Bury property.
I afterwards sold the mining right for
twenty-five thousand pounds."

I never expected to find a copper*
mine, but 1 had a thirst for knowledge
of all sorts j and, aided by elementary
works, with the collection at the muse-
um, and the geological features of the

15G

THE PEEK AND THE PRINTER.

[April,

surrouning country, I soon managed
to make myself very well versed in
mineralogy and the structure of the
earth.

I may as well mention here that I
sent Bagby the information that he
required. The date of the marriage
had, however, been written over an
erasure, and so I wrote to him.

CHAPTER VIIL,

Which tells of the Entertainments at the Castle,
and of a Finale not Rehtai sed.

It was within a few weeks of the
term of twenty-one years from the time
I was first placed in the hands of John
Guttenberg, when the events occurred
which I am about to relate.

There were always a large number
of visitors at Landys Castle during the
Christmas holidays, when the family
was there ; but this year there were
even more than ever before,for the Coun-
tess, an invalid, was in much better
health than usual, and sometimes
drove out to take an airing accompa-
nied by her little boy. I had frequent-
ly seen her at the Castle, a pale, thin
young lady, who had been a blonde
beauty, but who was wrecked by ill-
health. Her ladyship had recently so
far recovered her strength as to occa-
sion great rejoicing among her friends;
and the Earl, who appeared to be a
fond husband, did his best to minister
to her amusement. Among other mat-
ters devised to add to the pleasure of
the season, it was proposed to get up
an amateur dramatic performance, and
the manager of a circuit of provincial
theatres not far from London was sent
for to supervise the affair. It was
found, however, even after obtaining
the aid of the army officers in town
that there was not available material

for casting a tragedy — a fortunate
thing for the tragedy and the audience
— so they settled upon the old comedy
of " The Poor Gentleman/' which they
fell to rehearsing with great earnest-
ness. The little programmes of the
play were printed at our establish-
ment, and I noted that Captain Berke-
ley, a very clever amateur as I knew,
was set down for the part of Frederick
Bramble; the Honorable- Mr. Wickham,
and M. P. for the county, as Doctor
Ollapod, and the Honorable Mrs. Leigh
for Emily Worthing ton. The Emily of
the occasion was a young, rich, and
fashionable widow, very popular in the
town, on account of her beauty and
affability, and the dextrous manner
in which she drove her own phaeton
through the streets on her visits. I
knew, as I said, that Berkeley was
clever, but I marvelled at his choice,
Dr. Ollapod being his specialty, as
Frederick had been mine, but I saw
that it was done to oblige his noble
host. I, of course, never expected to
witness, much less to partake in these
performances ; for 1 would not stand
among lackeys, and though the proud.
Earl of Landys might allow a printers
boy the use of his library, to receive
him as a guest was another matter.

And yet I did participate, neverthe-
less.

*The day before the evening set for
the performance,Captain Berkeley came
to the printing-room in company with
a stranger whom he introduced as Mr
Haresfoot, the manager.

This new acquaintance was a man
about forty years old, tall and inclin-
ing to stoutness, with a rubicund face,
a slightly pompous manner, and a
shuffling walk, as though he were mov-
ing: about in Turkish slippers. He

1S05.

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

157

had a ridiculous habit of emphasizing
or rather punctuating his sentences, by
closing and opening- first one eye and
then the other, like a sportsman taking
aim at Ids game from either shoulder
alternately — a curious feat, which I
tried afterwards to imitate by way of
amusement, but found it to be to me
pl)3rsically impossible.

Mr. Hincks was absent and I was
manaGuno: the Chronicle 'in his stead —
having been sub-editor for some
time. I was knee-deep in a pile of
newspapers, from which I had been
clipping and arranging paragraphs ;
but I gave my visitors seats when they
entered, and waited to hear what they
had to say, for their manner spoke of
business.

Captain Berkeley introduced his com-
panion.

" Happy to make your acquaintance,
sir," said Haresfoot, winking his left
eye. " I have come down here to act
as director to the amateur entertain-
ment at the castle, at Captain Bcrkc-
ly's request" — here the right eye was
put through its exercise — "but we
find ourselves at the last moment in
s*omc trouble, from which I am told you
can extricate us." And then both eyes
opened and shut alternately.

J looked my astonishment.

"You must know, then, Ambrose,"
naid the Captain, "we ca«t the ' Poor
Gentleman' very nicely indeed, and
wore getting along famously, when
Wickhara receives news of his uncle's
alarming illness in Yorkshire — "

"The said uncle personating twenty
thousand a year," interrupted Hares-
foot, " and valuable; props."

" And' off he posts," continued Ber-
keley.* "I am up in Ollapod" —

"And down on it," again interrupted
the manager.

" Oh, be quiet, will you ! We have
nobody to play Frederic, and reading
a part is a bore. You have played it
for us more cleverly than I should. I
mentioned that to the Earl and ladies,
and told them I thought you might be
induced to do it, under the circum-
stances. So Haresfoot and myself
were commissioned to say they would
feel obliged if you would oblige them."

" Captain," said Haresfoot, " that
was very well done. If you sell out
and want employment come to me.
You shall announce all the new plays,
and make apologies to the audience
when my leading man has s<St too late
to dinner, and my leading woman has
a fit of the sulks."

" Oh, bother I" cried the Captain.
" What do you say ?"

"Well," I replied, "I'd be very happy
to do so; but why couldn't Mr. Hares-
foot fill the gap V}

" Oh," said the manager, winking
his left eye, " that w^ould never do."
Snap went the right eye. "I should
only mar the — well, the unity of the
performance."

Berkeley laughed.

"That, translated into plain En-
lish," said he, " means that he thinks
we are a set of muffs. Won't we show
him ? But what do you say, my line
fellah?"

"My time is not at my own dispo-
sal quite. You must ask Mr. Guttcn-
berg."

" Oh, if that's all, we'll expect you
at rehearsal at twelve o'clock to-mor-
row— twelve o'clock, sharp ! Not your
friend of the money-bags, though."

The chuckle that broke from Hares-
foot at this miserable attempt at pleas-
antry by Berkeley, showed that the lat-
ter had been talking to the former
about me, and served to cmbarass me

158

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

L April,

a little. Aftor some little conversa-
tion on indifferent subjects, they bid me
good-day, and with a nod to Tom
Brown, now our foreman, who had just
come in with some proof-slips, left the
room.

Tom had an enquiring look on his
face, so 1 told him their errand.

" Now there's luck !" cried he envi-
ously. " Here you, a prentice, get an
invitation to the castle among the
nobs ; and I'm a journeyman, and a
ten times better actor than you, and
get none."

And Tom went out again feclino:
perfectly aggrieved at my good-fortune.
For my part I heartily wished he could
take my place. I felt myself to be in
no pleasant position. Not being
among my equals in rank, I expected
to be unnoticed except when wanted
on the stage ; and not being a profes-
sional actor I should not even have the
privilege of sneering at the bad
acting.

Of course, Mr. Guttenberg was only
" too happy to oblige his lordship," and
thought "you ought to be keenly sensi-
ble of the honor, Ambrose," though
Ambrose was not. But when did a
true, manly and independent British
tradesman not feel delighted at a ser-
vice demanded by a peer of the realm ?

That evening I saw Sharp, and men-
tioned to him my proposed participa-
tion in the performance at the castle.

" Umph !" he growled. " Don't let
them look down on you then. They're
no better than you, blood or no blood.
You owe no man anything, while
they're in debt, every one of them."

" Not the Earl ?"

" Yes ; he too. That Mr. Wickham
owes me nearly ten thousand pounds,
spent in his last election. It's well se-

cured, though— well secured, or he
wouldn't have had a ha'p'ny from
me. If his uncle dies there's a nice
windfall. Your Sir Robert Bramble-
Mr. Willoughby, Lord Willoughby,
D'Erncliffe's brother, is in my debt a
pretty penny. In fact, I've had deal-
ings with every one, ladies and all,
who arc to play with you, except the
Honorable Mrs. Leigh and Captain
Berkeley."

'! Captain Berkeley is very prudent
about money-matters," I said.

"No, he isn't. He's a wasteful dog
—buying all sorts of nick-nacks just
because the expense don't go beyond
his income. ' Many a mickle makes a
muckle/ as the Scotch say, and he'll
want his money some day. But
you've no furred coat — you want a
furred coat in order to play Frederick."

" Oh, I can trim an ordinary surtout
with a little plush. That will answer
very well."

"No, it won't. Those fellows shan't
sneer at you. I have a furred robe
that has lain in tobacco these three
years It is trimmed with the finest
sable — none of your catskin humbugs?
and belonged to a gay, young attache
of the Russian embassy. Mary Gut-
tenberg can take the fur off carefully,
and sew it on the edges of your coat."

"I'm very much obliged to you, I'm
sure."

" Yes ; you ought to be— the fur
might get injured. But I'm getting
extravagant— like a fool. I shouldn't
wonder if I came to want yet, To-
day I was silly enough to waste my
money. Yes ; there was a little brat
spilt some milk from her pitcher — spilt
it all, in fact. She was crying. I
took hold of her pitcher to look at it
As there was nobody looking I slipped

1865.] THE PEER AND THE PRINTER. 159

a sixpence in her pitcher, gave it back foot was merely following a profes-

to her, and went away. I watched sional habit without reference to the

her from round the corner. She found different position of the parties ad-

the money presently, and — well it was dressed. " You will observe, madam,"

right funny, I declare, to see her tears I said, " that the more he is vexed the

dry up, and a grin get on her dirty stronger grows the emphasis on the

face, and then see the puzzled look term. If he should murmur 'my dear,"

that followed. I was a fool." very tenderly, he is extremely put out ;

" I think not. The enjoyment was and when he brings it out with unc-

certainly worth the sixpence." tion, 'my d-e a-r !' he is in a terrible

" Yes ; but don't you see," returned passion."

Sharp, argumentative^, "she only lost Mrs. Leigh laughed heartily. "He

a pen'orth of milk. Now, if I'd put in is a very singular person," she said.

a penny she'd have been just as dc- " What a ridiculous habit the man has

lighted, and I threw away five pence, of winking both his eyes."

Five pence at compound interest for "That, madam," I observed, is the

fifty years — " the language of Nod, and means —

" Mr. Sharp," I interrupted, "you'll ' Good characters are to be murdered

allow me to say that it isn't Abner to-night.' "

Sharp whom I know, that is talking "Pray, answer for yourself, sir," she

now, but the Abner Sharp the public cried, gaily. "I intend to play with

know ; and I prefer my own acquain- spirit ; that is, if I have a Frederick

tance to the public's a good deal." who will make love to me properly —

" You're an impudent boy," retorted on the stage — as he is in duty bound

Sharp. "But let me get you the coat." to do."

I pass over the details of the re- At length it was all over, and I was

hearsal. They were spiritless, of about to go, when a footman informed

course, as all such things are, whether me that the ladies wished to speak

amateur or professional. Mr. Hares, with me in the drawing-room. I fol-

ibot was nearly driven frantic by lowed him and he ushered me into the

people persisting in coining on at the presence of the Countess of Landyg,

wrong cues, and going off by the Mrs. Leigh and several others,

wrong exits. The ladies were even more " Mr. Fecit," said Mrs. Leigh, "we

provokingly stupid than the gentle- have arranged some tableaux, to be

men, and every few minutes the voice shown after the play. We are desir-

of Mr. llaresfoot, saying — "Thatisnotf ous of adding another — Conrad and

the entrance, my dear !" interrupted Medora. You have such a charming

the business. piratical look about you" (here she

"Pray, Mr. Fecit," asked our Emily laughed gaily and 1 bowed ironically)

Worthington, " what does the man " that 1 have ventured to request you

moan by 'clearing' me so absurdly?" to be my Conrad for the occasion.''

1 explained to her that it was a "With great pleasure, madam. But

technical term applied by all stage- I am at a loss, on so short a notice, for

managers to all females, old or young, the cost nine."

during rehearsal, and that Mr. Hares- " We have discussed all that, sir,''

160

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

[April,

said Lady Landys. " Gilford, the
dowager's maid, to whom we mention-
ed it, tells us that there are a number
of dresses in the lumber-room, and
among them one that will answer. I
have directed her to have it properly
aired, and sent to the dressing-room for
you this evening."

I thanked her ladyship and bowed
myself out.

At night we assembled in one of
the drawing-rooms, used as a tempora-
ry green-room, awaiting the call, and
I slipped out for a moment to get a
view of the theatre that had been im-
provised for the occasion. The stage
had been arranged at one extremity of
the great hall, and the part reserved
for the spectators had been fitted up
with seats very neatly. The scenery
and appointments, which had been pre-
pared under Haresfoot's supervision,
were very complete. Peeping through
a hole in the curtain (however new it
may be every theatrical curtain has a
peep-hole) I sawr the audience gradu-
ally gather in, and presently they
were all seated. On the extreme right
sat the dowager Countess, attended by
Gift'ord; and in the centre were the
Earl and Countess of Landys, attended
by their intimate friends. In the back-
ground stood the servants. Ml-. Os-
borne, whose position was intermedi-
ate between servitude and equality,
stood a little apart leaning against the
wall. I took in this survey, and then
returned to the green-room.

Mrs. Leigh chatted with me while I
was waiting for the call, and when she
was not on the stage herself. I readily
saw through- her purpose. She had
noted that I felt isolated, and in the
kindness of her heart endeavored to
set me at ease. I knew that my histo-

ry had been told to the guests, and
that I was the subject of observation
"and curiosity, perhaps pity — a still
more galling portion for me to take.
These reflections caused me a deal of
embarrassment at first, and when I
made my appearance in the third act,
1 did little to justify the panegyric on
my histrionic ability which Berkeley,
as I learned by Mrs. Leigh, had given
to the party. This did not last long.
The excitement of the scene soon
roused me up, and I dashed out vigor
ously. The part itself is not much ;
but as Humphrey and Sir Robert were
but poorly represented, and as Emily
supported me well, the part stood out
strongly in relief. The audience be-
gan to warm, Ollapod was very quaint
and funny, and the curtain fell on the
final scene amid the applause of the
noble and aristocratic spectators.
Everybody complimented me — even
Haresfoot condescended to say that it
was a very clever performance (sinis-
ter eye winking) for an amateur, (dex
ter eye snapping-); and if I ever chose
to go on the stage he would find a
vacancy in his company for n:e ; the
whole of which was emphasized by
at least three double winks fired off
with the utmost rapidity.

The stage was now cleared for the
tableaux, and I went into the dressing-
room to prepare for my share of the clos-
ing scene. I found a bundle there with
a note sent by Sharp, the latter stating
that having heard that I was to appear
as Conrad in the . closing tableau, he
had sent me something I might need.
I examined the bundle and found it to
contain a Turkish yataghan and pis-
tols and a dagger, which I recog-
nized as similar to the Malay kreea
found in the old house, but longer, and

1865.]

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

1G1

with the guard at one side, extremely
wide. The dress laid out for me was
not Turkish, however, nor could I toll
of what nation. It consisted of a red
cap, shaped like a brimless hat, a long
lull embroidered robe, red trousers
Trimmed like the cap, and a black,
gilt-edged bolt. The hat, jacket and
trousers were- very well, but I could
not arrange the robe to my satisfac-
tion. At length I girt it around me
with the belt, and let it fall to my feet.
When I had done so, I looked into the
minor to try the effect, and started in
surprise.

I was made up to look exactly like
the portrait of the pirate in the gallery,
and the resemblance was certainly
striking. This was a trick of Gifford,
but I had no time to conjecture her
object, for the call-boy run his head in
the door and called out: " Mr. Fecit for
the last tableau !" and I ran down
stairs to take my place in the final
scene.

Mrs. Leic^h looked at me and said :
"That is a very becoming dress, cer-
tainly, Mr. Fecit ; but it doesn't be-
long to Conrad."

I agreed with her, but what was I
to do ?

The bell tinkled and the curtain rose.
Mrs. Leigh was seated at my feet,
lute in hand, and my head was turned
nearly full front to the audience. As
the curtain went up I could see the
Earl rise slowly, as though in perfect
amazement, The elder Countess
leaned forward with an expression of
wonder and dismay overspreading her
countenance. The next moment she
raised herself from her scat, and with
the words, shrieked rather than spok-
en: "He is alive! Bugunda Jawa l"
fell back in violent hysterics-

All was confusion in an instant, the
tableau became alive at once; and the
► guests were gathered in groups, won-
dering at the circumstance, as they
bore the dowager Countess to her
apartment. I knew nothing of that
until afterwards, for when the curtain
had suddenly fallen I hastened up
stairs, resumed my Frederick dress,
which I had worn to the castle, and
taking the bundle containing the arms,
came down to leave. As I reached
the stair-foot I met Mr. Osborne.

"Youngster," said he, "what did
you mean by putting on that dress ?
Answer me that."

"Mean !" I retorted, " What should I
mean, Mr. Osborne ? It was the dress
left out for me and I put it on. What
do you mean, sir, by addressing me in
that tone ?"

"Where did you get it?"
"Her ladyship had it sent to me ;
Lady Landys."

" How did she know of it ?"
" Gifford pointed it out, I believe."
He left me suddenly, coupling Gif-
ford's name with an expression too
profane to print.

CHAPTER IX.,

Which describes a bold Stroke of the Peei
and his Steward.

When Mr. Guttenbcrg learned of the
occurrences at the castle he was
alarmed lest the Earl might be ve.\ed,
and withdraw his favors and patron-
age from our circulating library and
printing-rooms. This would have been
a serious blow, for although directlv
these were not much, yet as his lord-
ship, by virtue of his title and proper-
ty set the fashion in those parts, indi-
rectly they were a great ileal.

" It's a very sad affair, Ambrose,"

162

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

[April,

said he, " very stupid on your part to
get yourself up in that way. I am
astonished at you."

11 But it was not my fault, sir. How
could I help it ? The dress was pre-
scribed for me, and I took it. It is no
great matter for complaint that an
old lady should take a whim into her
head and go off in hysterics. And it's
no great matter, sir, I should think, to
the Earl, who must be used to her ec-
centricities."

" Yes, it is. His lordship don't like
to have an occurrence which will set
every one to talking. And then you
mustn't call her an ' old lady.' It isn't
proper."

" Isn't she an old lady, sir ?"

"An eld lady! Good gracious 1
Why her husband was a peer of the
realm !"

" It was not my fault, I am sure,
sir. I did not invite myself to the
castle."

"Now, hush! I am ashamed of
you. It was an act of condescension
to ask you. You ought to feel it deep-
ly, and your remark sounds like in-
gratitude."

And very ungrateful the bookseller
thought me. However all my adopt-
ed father's fears were dissipated on the
following day by a visit from Mr. Os-
borne, who came to thank me for hav-
ing assisted at the play, and to say
that I was expected to visit the libra-
ry while the guests were in the house,
as usual. He said the dowager had
recovered from the events of the night
before; her momentary insane fit had
passed apparently away ; and added
that the ladies thought me a very in-
teresting young man, with manners
above my station."

I chafed under this. This man who

talked about "my station," was only one
remove above a lackey, and I felt con-
'vinced that his language was his own.
I preserved a contemptuous silence
until he had gone, and then I broke
into a torrent of wrath, innocent of ef-
fect, as there was no one to listen but
Mr. Guttenberg, and he thought me
mad. It had one good effect, howev-
er, it relieved me of my suppressed
vexation, and next moment I smiled at
the consternation of the printer and
my own folly.

Berkeley came into the printing-
room during the afternoon.

"Ambrose," said he, "your'e adoosid
lucky fellah ! you've made a sensa-
tion. The whole town is talking about
you. You're the observed of all ob-
servers. The ladies declare there nev-
er was such a printer since types were
invented. The Honorable Mrs. Leigh
raves about you and declares you are
a young eastern rajah in disguise."

" It's all very annoying," I said,
picking away at the letter, for I was
at work at the case.

Tom Brown and the two apprentices
(for we had two new ones) laughed.

" I'd like to have been in his place,"
said Tom.

" Would you ?"
" Wouldn't I ?"

" Sensible fellah, Thomas, you !" an-
swered the Captain. "Annoyed, eh !
If 1 could have made half the impres-
sion I'd have been content to have put
tj^pes in that what-d'ye-call-it-there for
the remainder of my existence. You're
famous, I tell you. Your friend Sharp
would do a good business to exhibit
you at the Museum along with the nick-
nackeries. By the by, where did you
get that magnificent sabre you wore
in the tableau ?"

18G5J

TnE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

163

" Mr. Sharp was kind enough to send
the arms for me," I replied, "when her
found I was to stand in the tableau."

Berkeley whistled.

"And that magnificent fur on your
surtout — was that from Sharp too ?"

"It was."

" Worse and worse; or, rather, bet-
ter and better. Stranger than the
Splrynx, by Jove ! Old Sharp was never
known to do a kind thing to any one
before. I am quite sure he would
never have loaned that sword to me
without twice its value left as collat-
eral security. Your power over him
is very odd. Do you know they say
when he gets in company with yon, he
is absolutely genial ! What is your
secret? Are you Dr. Faustus come
back, and in league with the old gen-
tleman below ?"

The Captain ran on for some time in
that way until he remembered an en-
gagement to dine, and left with the
quizzical caution not to run off with
the Honorable Mrs. Leigh, as he had
designs matrimonially on that lady
himself, and should certainly kill and
eat his successful rival.

To satisfy Mr. Guttenbcrg, I resumed
my vihits to the library. The visitors
to my Lord Landys were not of studi-
ous habits, and 1 seldom met any of
them amid the books. When I did it
was because they dawdled in there for
a partial refuge from ennui; and then
in a little while dawdled out.

On Monday after the performance I
was at the castle. 1 had not been
seated a minute after hanging up my
overcoat, before Gilford came in.

" I have been watching for you,"
said she. " I 'ray come to my lady."

I followed her, and she ushered me

into the presence of the Countess dow-
ager.

The old lady half rose as I entered,
and pointed to a chair. I seated my-
self.

" Gilford," she said, " see that no
one disturbs us."

The waiting-woman retired.

"Now, young gentleman," said the
Countess, "I have heard something of
your history, but not fully. Will you
do me the favor to recite it so far as
you can."

I told her all I knew or had heard —
at least the essential parts of it. She
listened attentively, and when I had
concluded, came towards me, scanned
my features carefully, laid her hand on
my ear, and then resumed her seat,
much agitated.

"It is very singular," she muttered,
" and it cannot be. Yet that peculiar
mark. Does Mr. Marston know your
history ?"

" Mr. Marston ?"

" Oh, I see. You call him the Earl
of Landys. I had forgotten. But the
true earl will return — yes, he will re-
turn. He is not dead or his spirit
would have come to tell me. But
what did I ask you ? I forget; for my
brain wanders sadly of late."

" If the present Earl knew my his-
tory, lie knows as much as I have
told you," I replied.

Have a care then. lie suspects you,
and will do you a mischief. And be-
ware of Osborne. I may send for you
again. Will yen come ?"

"Should I receive your ladyship's
message, I will strive to obey it," I
answered, as I bowed myself out.

I returned to the library and had
not been there long before the Earl

164

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

[April,

came in. He smiled as lie returned my
bow.

" We had quite a scene the other
night, Mr. Fecit."

" Yes, my lord."

"The Dowager Countess's infirmity
gives her strange fancies. Your per-
formance of Frederick was very
spirited."

I bowed my acknowledgments.

" Be seated. Have you thought on
what I suggested once concerning In-
dia ?"

Tin's was the third time during the
year that he had asked me a similar
question, and it was to be the third time
I was to make him a similar answer.

" I am sincerely obliged to your
lordship for the kind offer, but for the
present I have determined to remain
here, and find employment at the busi-
ness which I have been taught."

How we sin through courtesy and
the rule of the world ! I was by habit
and principle opposed to falsehood ;
and yet I here caught myself lying
outrageously. I was not sincerely
obliged to his lordship at all ; on the
contrary I was angry at the persistent
offer. Nor did I think it kind, for I
believed it to be prompted by some
sinister motive, the nature of which
I could scarcely conjecture.

His lordship took snuff and laid the
box on the table.

" Don't let me interrupt your
studies," said he, and took up a book.
I resumed mine, not to study but to
think. On looking up a few minutes
alter I found the Earl had gone. His
gold snuff-box lay on the table. I
thought it a piece of forgetfulness, but
went on with my reading, and just then
seeing a passage which I wished to
note, opened a box lying near me to

get a sheet of paper. The lid of the
box was lined with looking-glass, and
it remained up and slightly back from
the perpendicular. While I was writ-
ing before it Mr. Osborne came in.
He bade me a good day, and went to
the book-case, selecting and rejecting
books.

I read on, and on turning a page my
eye rose from the top of the book, and
fell on the looking-glass in the lid
of the paper box. It chanced to be that
angle which brought the right side of
the room before me. My very flesh
crawled. What infamous work was
this !

I distinctly saw Mr. Osborne with
the gold snuff-box in his hand, with
his eye fixed upon me, advance to
where my great-coat hung, and, after
slipping the snuff-box in the breast-
pocket, gather up a couple of books
from the table and make a noiseless de-
parture.

I arose ill alarm and excitement, but
my course of action was decided on at
once. I removed the box, and placing
it on a small table in the farthest cor-
ner of the room, threw a newspaper
carelessly over it.

I sat there tor a little while, but no
one came. The warning of the old
Countess recurred to me. What
could it all mean? At length the
anxiety became insupportable. I rose
and put on my great coat in order to go
out. I trembled with excitement, and
was steadying myself for a moment
against the chair, when the Earl ac-
companied by Brewis, his butler, en-
tered.

" And so, Mr. Fecit," said the peer,
" you won't go to India ? Why, where
is my snuff-box ? I left it on the ta-
ble. Didn't you see it here, Mr. Fecit."

1865.]

THE FEER AND THE PRINTER

165

" I did, my lord ; but it lias not been
here since Mr. Osborne left. Perhaps
he took it to hand it to your lordship."
I said this in order to sec if his lord-
ship were a party to the affair.

" No, I met him this moment. He
would have told me, you know. It is
very singular."

" Very," I said, playing with him.
" I am quite sure I left it on the table.
Has any one else been here ?"
" No one but Mr. Osborne."
"It's very odd j and I don't know,
but—"

It's coming1 now, I thoinrht.
" I am quite sure you couldn't have
taken it, of course, but, as a matter of
form, you had better allow Brcwis
here to examine your pockets. It will
prevent false reports, you know."

He felt his degradation, I was sure.
He looked meanly. I put my hand to
my breast pocket for the express pur-
pose of leading him on as I said :

"No, my lord. I allow no man, un-
der any pretext, to thus degrade me."
" Brewis, do you hear ?" asked the
peer. "This is extraordinary. If you
know nothing of the box, why do you
object to being", searched ? Under such
circumstances I shall insist on it."

" Pray," said I, "did it never occur

to your lordship that you might have

left your box elsewhere in the room ?"

" No ! for I am positive that I left

it here."

11 Brewis," said I to the butler, "do
me the favor to lift the paper on yon-
der table."

3rewis obeyed me, and revealed the
box.

11 Is that what you seek, my lord V\

His lordship reddened, but took the
box without a word.

" I ask your lordship if that be the
box ?"

The Earl muttered "Yes!"
" I owe you a thousand apologies,
Mr. Fecit," he said after a pause.
" The mistake was mine, but your
manner — "

I might have affected to believe him,
though I knew it to be a lie. But I
was young and hot-headed, so I inter-
rupted him at once.

" I would like to believe that your
lordship was not engaged in a plot
that would disgrace the lowest minded
man in the world. But you were.
What your motives may have been I
can't tell ; but you have the comforting
reflection of knowing that you have
failed."

" Do you dare to accuse me, you
beggarly brat ?" he demanded angrily.
" Fine language for a peer," I re-
plied. " Do you see that mirror, my
lord ? Seated before that, I saw your
tool at his dirty work, and I have
baffled him. I see through you and
despise you."

The stupid surprise on the butler's
features satisfied me that he, at least,
was not in the conspiracy. The con-
tents of Paul Bagby's letter came to
my mind and I could not refrain from
a parting shot at random.

" Let me tell your lordship one
thing. I am more prudent than Don
Jose Espinel."

The shot told. The Earl's features
grew livid with rage and apprehen-
sion, and with a laugh I turned on my
heel and left him

166

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

[April,

CHAPTER X.,

Wherein the Storm becomes so fierce that 1
Scud before it.

I went home immediately from the
castle, and entered the printing room
in no pleasant frame of mind. I felt
that I had been led by my passion into
a serious error. The allusion to Espi-
nel's abduction, or murder, whichever
it might be, was entirely wrong — not
only unnecessary of itself, but a breach
of confidence. The Earl would know
very well the source from whence
I had my information, and thus I had
compromised myself. The attempt
against myself I could trace to nothing
but a belief that I was acquainted
with the secret of Espinel ; and un-
founded though that belief was, the
boast would confirm it. In any view
of the case I had let my resentment
get the better of my prudence — no very
wonderful position for a youth to take.
Tom Brown expressed surprise at
my quick return and commented on my
fretted countenance ; but I parried his
thrusts and answered his questions by
evasive monosyllables. I took my
composing stick in hand and com-
menced to set up one of Mr. Hinck's
ponderous leaders. But I was too
moody and restless, and cmpt3ring my
half-filled stick on a galley, I left the
copy on the case, threw off my apron,
and started for the shop. Here I found
Mr. Guttenberg behind the counter
serving; some customers with station-
ery.

" You are soon back from the castle
to-day, Ambrose."

The fact that I went to the castle
regularly by invitation of the Earl was
a matter of pride with the printer, and
he was fond of alluding to it before
strangers.

I answered him in the affirmative
and passed on to the back room. As
I did so I heard him say, in' reply to
some remark made by one of the cus-
tomers—

" Oh, yes ! a great favorite with his
lordship."

" Why, dear me, Ambrose !" ex-
claimed Mrs. Guttenberg, looking up
from her work as I entered the apart-
ment where she was engaged in sew-
ing, "you look quite ill. What is the
matter ? Are you sick ?"

" Heart-sick, mother," I answered ;
for I often called her mother, though I
never called her husband father ;
" heart sick."

" What's the matter now, Brosy ?"
inquired Mary, "you are pale as a
ghost."

" Mary, I want to talk to your father
and mother a while. Suppose you go
into the shop and ask your father to
come here when he is disengaged.
You can take his place awhile."

" What's it all about ? Can't 1 know
too V

" Bo as Ambrose bids you," said her
mother.

Mary went out pouting, and in a
few minutes Mr. Guttenberg came in
I told the couple all that had occurred
between me and the Earl, with the ex-
ception of my own parting speech.

" The vile wretches !" exclaimed Mrs.
Guttenberg, indignantly.

But Mr. Guttenberg only looked
grave.

" There seems to be no doubt about
Mr. Osborne," he said ; " but you did
wrong to insult his lordship. He no
doubt thought vou did take the box.
It was natural enough under the cir-
cumstances, he not knowing you
well."

1865.1

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

167

"Why," said I, "he was in the plot."
" That can't be," was the rejoinder.
" A peer of the realm ! Impossible !"

11 A peer of the realm may be a
rascal as well as a peasant of the
soil."

"But he could have no motive."
" He has one, depend on it. I have
reason to suspect it, and know why ;
but it is quite enough, I think, to re-
call the warning of the old Countess."

" She is half crazy — wholly so at
times. You look at it wrongly."

We talked the matter over without
coming to any agreement. While still
engaged in the discussion, Mary came
in to tell us that a footman was at the
door with a message from Lord Lan-
dys who desired to see Mr. Guttenberg
immediately, and his lordship's own
carriage was in waiting to convey the
stationer to the castle.

-O"

OLD EPIGRAMS FROM THE LATIN.

ADAPTED TO THE HAPPY UNITED STATES ANNO DOMINI 1865.

TO THE SHODDY AND PETROLEUM PRINCES OF WALL STREET.

Savior armis
Luxv.ria incubit, viciumqee ulsciscitur orbem!
"War's a less curse than luxury, which produces
Ills that soon drain our money, blood and juices.

TO A MEMBER OF THE CABINET WHO, WnEN DRUNK, PROMISES HIS FRIENDS EVERYTHING,

AND WHEN SOBER PERFORMS NOTHING.

Omnia promittis, cum 'iota node bibisti /
Mane nihil prcestas ; Posihume, mane bibe.

You are full of promises, dear S. ,

When you are drunk at night ;
And say our hopes need not be les3,

For you will crown them quite.

But in the morn you nothing do ;

And therefore be advised, —
Be drunk both night and morning too,

Your word will then be prized.

168

NAPOLEON BONAPARTE ON THE

[April,

NAPOLEON BONAPARTE ON THE DESPOTISM. OF TAXES.

One clay in the Council of State the
great Napoleon made the following- re-
marks in relation to the despotism of
taxes which cannot be read without
the saddest misgivings by any man in
this country at the present time : "The
"system of imposed taxes is bad ; un-
" dcr it there is neither property nor
" civil liberty ; for civil liberty depends
" upon the security of property. It
" does not exist in a country where the
" vote of the taxes may every year be
" changed. One who has 3,000 francs
" rent does not know how much will be
"left the next year for his subsistence.
"The imposed tax may absorb his
"whole income. We see men, for a
"miserable interest of fifty or a hun-
"dred francs, make solemn pleas be-
"fore grave tribunals, and a simple
" clerk can, by a single stroke of his
" pen, overburden you by several thou-
" sand francs ! In such a state of
" things property does not exist.
" When I buy a piece of land, I do not
" know what I am purchasing. In
"Lombardy, in Piedmont, they have a
"land-tax assessment book. Every
" one knows before hand what he must
"pay. The book is unalterable;
"changes arc made in it only in
"extraordinary cases, and after a for-
" mal judgment. If the levy is in-
" creased, every one bears his share
" according to the book, and he can
" make his calculations in his office.
" One knows what he has ; and he has
" a property. Why is there not public
" spirit in France ? Because a pro-

prietor is obliged to court the favor
"of the administration. If he stands
"ill with it, he is ruined. Judgments
" upon reclamations are arbitrarv ; for
" this reason, in no other country are
"people so servilely attached to gov-
ernment as in France, because pro-
" perty is dependent upon its favor.
" In Lombardy, on the contrary, a
"proprietor lives upon his land, with-
" out troubling himself as to who gov-
" erns. Nothing has ever been done
" in France for property. He who
"will introduce a good law concern-
" ing assesments {cadastre) will de-
" serve a statue."

Is it possible to read these wise and
thoughtful words of Napoleon without
feeling an oppressive sense of shame
at the recklessness and folly of the
public men of the present day ? The
study of Congress seems to be not how
they may save the people from crush-
ing loads of taxation, but rather in
what way they can impose new and
heavier burdens. Such organs of the
administration as the Evening Post
and New-York Times declare in set
words that " the people are anxious to
be taxed more;" and that "a great
debt is a great national blessing."
Upon this strange theory Congress
persistently acts; and it has succeeded
in weaving a network of taxes over
the people which they must either
break or tear to pieces, or submit to
eternal slavery. They have contrived
to tax everything but thought and
sympathy, and these they punish. The

1865.]

DESPOTISM OF TAXES.

169

taxation of the people already amounts
to more than the total income of all
taxable property in the country at the
rate of seven per cent. How long will
the people endure this? How long
can they endure it ? Even admitting
them to be asses — for which sad con-
clusion there is, alas 1 too much occa-
sion— there is necessarily an end to
their endurance. Already the words
of Napoleon are fulfilled with us. Pro-
perty, as a surety, no longer exists in
this country. If, by an act of Con-
gress, any burdens which stupidity or
malice may devise can be perpetually
laid upon the people, there is an end of
property and of liberty. If under the
title of taxes they may take one tenth
of a man's income, they may go further
and take one third, one half, and so on
until they take the whole. Where is
the security ? The principle admitted,
who can tell where it may end ? Al-
low this administration to go on for
four years to come as it'has in the four
year passed, and the great majority of
property-holders would make money
by giving up all they possess to the
government, if by so doing they could
start in life anew and out of debt.

It was Napoleon's profoundest study
to relieve the people as much as possi-
ble from the burdens of taxes. In
this he proved himself greater than
even in military prowess. At the be-
ginning of his consulate the finances
of France were in a deplorable condi-
tion. The treasury possessed only
150,000f. The dividends and pensions
of the State were paid only in depreci-
ated paper. Payments into the treas-
ury were made in more than forty dif-
ferent kinds of things, and the greatest
confusion necessarily prevailed in ev-
ery department of the public finance.

Mr. Pitt prcdicced the speedy ruin of
France. But he did not comprehend
the genius of Napoleon In one year
he more than redeemed the credit of
his country, In a single year he suc-
ceeded in regulating the collection of
contributions ; so that, while abolish-
ing all violent processes, he met all
expenditures, diminished the taxes,
restored a metalic currency, and held
three hundred millions of francs in se-
curities.

He wrote to the King of England —
" Finances founded upon a good sys-
tem of agriculture never fail." He
proved the wisdom of his words in the
management of the finances of France.
He favored the creation of the Bank of
France ; but he rendered it independ-
ent of the government. It was not
even required to lend him money. Yet
so thoroughly was he impressed with
the importance to the people of a regu-
lar and safe currency that he always-
came to the assistance of the Bank in
any difficulty. He said in 1805 —
" Notwithstanding the bad spirit and
the distrust with which certain gover-
nors of the Bank are animated, I Will,
if necessary stop the pay of my sol
diers to sustain the Bank."

This great Emperor estimated that
France required annually only a bud-
get of 800,000,000 francs for a state
of war, and of 600,000,000 francs for a
state of peace ; less than Mr. Lincoln
expends every three months of his
mischievous life. But, under Napo-
leon, France never required more than
the above-named sums, except after
the reverse of Moscow. Napoleon
never expended for his own use half of
his civil list. lie employed the other
half in forming a reserve fund, in exe-
cuting public works, or in asssisting

THE CONTINENT OF AMERICA THREATENED WITH WAR.

[April,

manufactories. Only imagine Mr. Lin-
coln appropriating his vast secret ser-
vice fund in that manner ! The idea is
associated with the millenium, or the
resurrection of the dead. For we
shall witness the milleninm, and
see the dead rising out of their
graves long before we shall see Abra-
ham Lincoln spending his secret ser-
vice fund for any other purpose than
the plundering and enslavement of the
people. During the period of Napo-
leon's most extensive wars the taxes
of the French people were less than

one quarter the tax burdens endured
by the people of the United States un-
der the administration of Abraham
Lincoln. Under Napoleon's reign the
people were not plundered by the
government. Under this of Lincoln
they are. The license he gives to
stealing is the only thing that can at-
tach his followers to him. As ug-ly in
mind as he is in body, none but the
rascal or the fanatic can look upon him,
or think of him, without a shudder of
horror and contempt.

THE WHOLE CONTINENT OF NORTH AMERICA THREATENED

WITH WAR.

If this were not an age of maniacs —
if we were not living in a country
where the whole people have run mad
— we should be amazed at the superhu-
man plans of the party now in power
in this country. It seems that the sub-
jugation of the Southern States is only
a small fraction of the stupendous pro-
gramme. After this small joo of con-
quering our late sister States, by ex-
terminating their populations, we shall
have an immense army, which can be
augmented, if necessary, to millions of
armed men, by the addition of the more
intelligent and adaptable of the freed
negroes. Then, according to the pro-
gramme, the real work of our great-
ness is to begin. As an early break-
fast, or small lunch before dinner, we
are to gobble up all the British posses-
sions to the North and East of us.

This is to settle all old scores with
England ; and, at the same time, to
give us a clean boundary by the horizon
on the North. This work done, we
shall turn our attention southward.
Maximilian is to be driven out of Mex-
ico ; and that county, so rich in pre-
cious ores, and wanting nothing but
Yankee enterprise to develop them
afresh, is to come under our mild and
benevolent rule. Catholicism, called
by Republican leaders "a twin relic of
barbarism," is to be banished from that
land, which, we are told, " it has long
cursed, and the sweet infant lisp of
Puritanic devotion is to bless that
" poor priest-ridden country."

From this regenerated spot our con-
quering legions are to sweep down
upon Cuba, to wipe off the plague-spot
of " slavery" from its soil. The poor en

1865.]

THE CONTINENT OF AMERICA THREATENED WITH WAR.

slaved blacks are to bo given an equal
right in the lands they have ».o long
worked for their haughty Spanish mas-
tors. They, too, are to be made men
and brothers, and one with the society
of white men. But here our work is
not to stop. Indeed, it will be but just
begun. For there are Brazil and Porto
Rico still cursed with the " God-defying
sin of slavery." Shall they be aban-
doned to their fate ? Shall they be
left in the cold outside of the gentle
Bway of Puritan empire ? No. " Sla-
very" is to be wiped off of the Continent.
And we are to do it. We are to do
more. There are all the Central Ameri-
can States, designed by the Almighty
to be the wealthiest region on the
globe. They are situated midway be-
tween all the great marts of the world.
All the thoroughfares of the commerce
of civilized nations lie along their
shores. They have a climate and a
soil of unsurpassed advantages. Why
is not Central America the richest
and the happiest spot on earth ? It
lacks a government. That we are to
supply. It will be only the work of a
month or two, to completely regen-
erate that vagabond land. A little
fraction of fifty thousand of our "well-
drilled veteran negroes," commanded
by our skillful and humane Puritan gen-
erals, will hold all Central America so
still that it will make no more noise
than a mouse in a cheese. The people
will soon learn that they have at last a
stable government, and will welcome
it as a relief from the vacillations and
anarchy of too much liberty. Property
wants a strong and stable government.
It will be the highest act of Puritan
charity to bestow such a boon upon

Central America. Nor should our
charity end here. No — it shall not.

There are the South American States,
wanting but a good kind of govern-
ment to achieve the highest possible
pitch of all earthly glory — boundless
wealth. Nothing: ails South Amer-
ica but the fact that it is not governed
by New-England. For this benevolent
mission we could spare three hundred
thousand, or even five or six hundred
thousand, of our veteran negro troops.
It would be only a pastime for our mili-
tary genius to bestow the blessing of a
g-ood government upon all these be-
nighted regions to the South of us*
And, besides these great civil benefits,
we shall, at the same time, carry the
blessings of true religion to those
afflicted peoples. It will be the mis-
sion of lively New-England Puritanism
to drive the effete Catholicism out of
all that district of the globe. These
" twin relics of barbarism, Catholicism
and slavery," we are told, " shall not
much longer curse any spot in the
New World."

But we have not yet reached the end
of Lincoln's grand programme for
ameliorating the conditions of all the
peoples and languages on this Conti-
nent, The West India Islands lie
directly in our path of empire, and will
naturally belong to us when we have
redeemed all the main lands of Central
and South America. Jamaica, Hayti,
and all the small islands of the Carib-
bean Sea, must fall like so many
plumbs into our lap. We shall want
them for homes of our freed npo-roes
as the Puritan type of man increases
and overspreads the conquered terri-
tory of the South. At last we shall
have to adopt the same policy with the
negroes that we did with the Indians
— exterminate or remove them. And
when our work is done in all the re-

172

THE CONTINENT OF AMERICA THREATENED WITH WAR.

[April,

gions that lie to the South of us, to
make a clean thing* of it, we shall re-
turn to the far North again, and take
under our humane protection the Rus-
sian possessions that lie on our side of
the globe. Then,
" The whole boundless Continent is ours."

Then the territory belonging to us,
or paying tribute to us, will stretch
from Barrows' Straits to Cape Horn,
embracing every inch of land between
the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. In a
word, the whole Western Continent
will belong to us. There will be at
least a thousand Military Governors
owing their appointment to the Presi-
dent, or autocrat, of the consolidated
States. The territories over which
they rule will owe tribute to us. Our
wealth will be as boundless as our do-
minions. England, France, Russia, and
Spain, will tremble at the very men-
tion of our name. In our mild and
peaceful enterprises we shall be the
hope of all peoples ; but in our wrath
the terror of the world.

Does this vast design seem chimeri-
cal ? Do we look upon it as the dream
of a madman or a fool ? We declare
that it is substantially the programme
stated by one of the most distinguished
leaders of the Republican party — a
gentleman whose name has been more
than once used in connection with a
place in Mr. Lincoln's Cabinet. To
him, and the party represented by him,
it is held to be, not only within the
bounds of possibility, but of probability.
It is a natural and easy conclusion of
the lunacy of Lincolnism. It is no
more chimerical than the idea of sub-
jugating, and holding as conquered
colonies, our sister Southern States.
Nor is the crime of the proposition half
as great. If we can carry on a gigan-

tic war to " wipe out slavery" from our
sister States, where we are solemnly
bound, by our own Constitution, not to •
meddle with it, what may we not do to
exterminate it in Cuba, Brazil, and
Porto Rico ? If the American people
will devote their blood to overthrow
the sovereign States which were our
companions in the grand struggle for
independence and liberty, who will say
that they will stop at any measure of
crime and war against foreign States?
What has mankind, what has civiliza-
tion to expect from a people led by
such crazy vagabonds as Sumner,
Wade, Seward, and Lincoln, backed
by a clergy as immoral, blood-thirsty,
and brutal as the Salii priest? of the
temple of Mars ? Should the justice
and mercy of God so far abandon
America as to allow Puritanism to sub-
jugate and exterminate the Southern
States, not only the people of Mexico,
of the Central and South American
States, of the English, Spanish, and
French possessions in the islands to
the South of us, but of the English col-
onies at the North, will be compelled
to pour out their blood like floods of
rain to defend their property and their
institutions from the fierce invasion of
our legions of savage blacks and
whites. Inspired by a long cultivated
thirst for blood and plunder, we shall
sweep down upon all the un-PurUan-
ized peoples of this Continent like an
avalanche. Especially will every
Catholic district feel the fierce shock
of our arms. It is a war of Puritan-
ism, against every principle of civil
and religious liberty, and it will rage,
with accumulating force and savagery,
until God, in mercy to mankind, shall
terminate its terrible reign, by a gen-
eral uprising of all peoples against it.

1865.] MORNING SONG. 173

If we should succeed in "subjugating*' tanisin let loose, and unrestrained over

the South, in the souse meant by the the Continent ? It will bo like an

"Republican" party, this Continent eruption of hell — sending forth an in-

will be the theatre of thirty, and per- computable army of devils! Democra-

haps of sixty years of bloodier wars cy will give place tp Plutocracy. The

than the civilized world has yet wit- arts of war will banish the arts of

nessed! If the heart of humanity peace. The very name of America v-ill

shudders at the vices of Puritanism be abhorred, and justly abhorred, by

chained, what will be its horror atPuri- mankind 1

-+&*-

MORNING SONG.

FEOM THE GERMAN OP TJHLAND.

As yet the sun hath not appeared,
Nor yet the morning bells are heard
Along the quiet vale.

How si'lent doth the forest seem!
The birds but warble in a dream ;
No songs the morning hail.

In these green fields have I been long,
And have composed this little song,
And suncr it in the dale.

-:o:-

A FRENCH EPIGRAM.

Greenlawl de la paix le pays
De Mars est doignedu brail,
La regne V amour, et la nuit
De Van entier est le demi.

The loves of Greenland happy are
So far removed from noise and care ;
Bold Cupid reigns and revels there—
The shortest night is half a year.

1*74 DEATH AND TENEMENT-HOUSES. [April#

DEATH AND TENEMENT-HOUSES.

BY THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH.

I strolled through the streets the other day —
The flags were sloppy — the air was damp — «

When, picking my path along Broadway,
I heard behind me a rattling tramp.

I gave it no heed, till upon my neck
Came the steady blast of an icy breath ;

Then I turned on my heel with a low congee
To my old acquaintance, grim King Death.

For, being a doctor, I knew him well,

Though rather strangety the monarch was dfest—
The finest cloth in his trousers and coat,

Of Genoa velvet his sable vest.

Deeply cavernous the eyes in his skull ;

O'er face and on fingers the skin was drawn ;
And a marvellous skill had the tailor displayed

In hiding the lacking of sinew and brawn.

He carried no dart in his bony hand,

As men may have seen in a picture or two ;

For he does all his work by his deputies now,
Just as the leading officials do.

Quoth I — "Your majesty 's looking well ;

Where are the diseases that move in your suite-
Lord Typhus Gravior, Count Variole,

And the terrible Marquis of Diptherite ?

" Phthisis, your Groom of the Chamber, so thin ;

Sir Billious B,emittent, the sallow and grim ;
Your rosy Field Marshal, the Prince Scarlatina —

Many the struggle I've had with him !

" Your five Lords in Waiting — Delirium Tremens,
Scorbutus, Cholera, Dengue and Grippe —

Have you given some other diseases their office,
Or are you iiicog for a morning trip ?"

Death grinned as he answered — " Crony of mine,

I'm only making their duties sure ;
They'll come at ray call when I need their aid —

They are taking their rest in the common sewer.

"I am merely building through friends of mine,

My tenement-houses here and there,
With the lowest of ceilings and smallest of rooms,

And the shortest allowance of light and air.

1865.] DEATH AND TENEMENT-HOUSES. 175

"I make it a point in the contract that all

These fever-engendering dungeons must be,
By a most ingenious contrivance of mine,

From ventilation thoroughly free.

" The reeking breaths of a dozen at least

Shall poison the air of every room ;
And wretches who climb the tenement stairs,

Ascend to a quick and a certain doom.

"When once I have builded me houses enough,
And filled them up with the wretchedest poor,

My pet diseases my summons will hail
From the garbage pile and the common sewer.

44 From attic to cellar they'll swiftly sweep,

And revel in joy in the foetid air ;
At the victim's bed they'll dance and leap

To the melody made by the dying there.

" The innocent child with his golden hair,

His plump, red cheeks, and his tinted skin,
Shall wane in his spirit and sink in his strength,

And waste to a creature pallid and thin.

" The budding maid with her heart aglow,

And its rich blood tinting her pulpy lip,
Will find Consumption seize on her lungs,

With a subtle touch and an iron grip.

" The stoutest man may laugh at my power,
For his sinew is tough and his muscle is strong ;

But strength and vigor are little avail
When the loathsome Small-pox comes along.

" Grandsire garrulous, grandchild weak,

Mother and daughter, father and son —
These are my prey in the earliest day ;

Out of a score I will scarce leave one.

" My harvest I ripen by arts like these,

That soon to the sickle I may condemn ;
I'm sure of the builders and owners as well,

When Satan forecloses his mortagage on them."

Humming an opera air Death left,

And I said to myself as I homeward strayed —
44 Whenever a tenement-house goes up,

I know the points in the contract made.

" Yes ! the owner has bargained for human lives-
Death's journeyman butcher, he paves the way

For pallor and weakness and foul disease
And a narrow tenement-house of clay.

"So let us rejoice as around tluy spread

Their fever-nurseries here by the acre,
King Death will garner his or >p of fools,

And I grow rich, and the coffin-maker."

1:16

ABOLITION FOREVER IMPOSSIBLE.

[April,

"ABOLITION OF SLAVERY'7 FOREVER IMPOSSIBLE.

If Abraham Lincoln & Co. could
know beyond doubt or question that
the "abolition of slavery" was impossi-
ble, and as absolutely and everlastingly
beyond the scope of human power to
compass, as to breathe without atmo-
spheric air, or, indeed, to restore life
to the dead, they would doubtless halt
at once in their awful march towards
national suicide, and repent in sack-
cloth and ashes for the enormous
crimes they are blindly committing.
They have the same interests, the same
motives, the same wishes to preserve
this grand fabric of American civiliza-
tion for their children and their poster i
ty that others have ; and, therefore,
could they understand this question
and know that that which they are
striving to accomplish was in utter
conflict with the fundamental laws of
organic life, as well as those that lie at
the base of social order, they would in-
stantly cease from their dreadful work
of blood and destruction, and strive
with all their might to retrace their
steps and to undo their monstrous
work.

If, for example, four years ago the
veil of the future had been uplifted and
they could have seen the awful and
bloody scenes that have intervened, they
would have abandoned their " cause/'
or, at all events, would have permitted
the seven seceding States to " depart
in peace." But if they continue to
cling to that " cause," and the veil that
now hides the next four years from
mortal gaze were suddenly withdrawn,
they would go mad with terror, and
with glazed eyeballs and hair erect,

like quills of the " fretful porcupine,"
call upon the mountains to fall upon
and hide them from the appalling hor-
rors that surrounded them.

It is true, Jefferson Davis & Co. have
committed great errors — perhaps pos-
terity will say great crimes — but it
will always be remembered that they
acted on the defensive, and, at the most,
mistook the true means of defence.
At all events, it is certain that if Mr.
Lincoln had abandoned the " anti-
slavery cause " after his election, and
pledged himself to administer the Con-
stitution as the Supreme Court inter-
preted it, and as all of his predecessors
administered.it, there would have been
no dismemberment of the States or de-
struction of life or property. Indeed,
it is certain that Virginia — grand,
magnanimous, Ume/^loving Virginia
■ — proposed to Mi. Lincoln and hi&
party to restore ("be seceding States to
the Union on tha simple proviso that
they would abandon their " principles"
and administer the Constitution just aw1
the Supreme Court interpreted it on the
question in issue.

But thirty years of " anti-slavery %
teaching, innumerable books, pan.'
phlets, tracts, speeches, sermons, /zj,
had so deluded the northern mind that
the "anti-slavery" party was pro-
foundly convinced of the r?uth, and, in-
deed, beneficence of their " cause," and
with an abiding faith in its justice,
sacrificed the Union of the States and
the peace and prosperity of the country.
And, more wonderful still, in the face
of the awful experience of the past four
years, they cling to their "principles"

1865.]

ABOLITION FOREVER IMPOSSIBLE.

with seemingly greater earnestness
than ever before, and now openly and
clamorously declare that the "aboli-
tion of slavery" is the object of the
war, and that it shall not cease until
that object is accomplished. If Mr.
Lincoln were to declare that the war
should go on until corn was grown on
the peaks of the Rocky Mountains, and
New England should supply the world
with coffee, or issue his proclamation
that the birds of America should change
place with its fishes, or hereafter they
should live a common life and mix to-
gether— any or all of these things
would be no more impossible than that
" abolition of slavery" and "impartial
freedom" for whites and negroes, which
he and his party pledge themselves to
compass. All that is possible in either
case is self-destruction — to beat out
their brains and destroy their bodies
in blind and impious efforts to change
the eternal order and "reform" the
works of the Almighty.

The absolute demonstration of this
assertion is somewhat difficult in a
brief and hastily written article like
this, but it is confidently believed by
the writer that every intelligent and
rational man who reads it will rise
from its perusal with an undoubting
conviction of its general truth. First
of all, then, what is " slavery," or what
is the thing or condition thus desig-
nated?

Wp have in this country some four
millions of negroes. They are in a
condition of domestic subordination
corresponding with their natural
wants and the well-being of the white
citizenship. They are not included in
the legal or political system, and their
service or industrial capacities are for
general convenience made to have a

money value ; and to the precise ex-
tent necessary to enforce this service
the master or owner has control over
them, but in all beyond, the negro is
under the safeguard of the law. 1 1 be"
ing, moreover, the highest interest of
the master to make this service avail-
able, it is only reasonable to say that
the negro is the best treated human
creature dependent on the will of a su-
perior in Christendom. The brutal
husband or father without affection has
little to restrain his brutality, but the
brutal "slaveholder" injures himself
when he beats or injures his "slave;"
and, therefore, to say nothing of a
healthy public sentiment or of the law,
the interest of property is doubtless a
greater protection to the " slave" than
is the affection of a brutal husband or
father to wife or child It is quite un-
necessary to go into particulars — it is
sufficient to say that while there are
doubtless many defects in the social
condition common to the South and
common to all the States save 'one
when the Federal Union was created,
it is a condition vastly superior to
Africanism or isolation of the negro,
for he is more prolific, and therefore
must be in a better condition than the
former.

Life is the greatest blessing that
God has given His creatures, for it em-
braces all other blessings, and that
people, or race, or population which
multiplies itself most rapidly, is per-
force, and of necessity, in the best con-
dition ; and when it is considered that
less than half a million of negroes have
in eighty years expanded into some
four millions, we know that it is the
best and happiest condition to the ne-
gro, of course.

Men and animals languish and die

178

ABOLITION FOREVER IMPOSSIBLE.

[April,

out in slavery or abnormal conditions.
Thus the slaves of Greece and Rome
were constantly renewed by fresh
wars, and in which the conquered,
having forfeited their lives, became
the slaves of the victors. Thus, too,
lions, tigers, &c., in the menageries
languish and die, and continual addi-
tions are made by fresh captures of
these animals, instead of natural sup-
ply. We cannot well compare white
men and negroes, for that which were
the best possible condition for one
might be the worst possible condition
for the other ; but whatever may be
our well-being, under our Democratic
institutions, in comparison with the mil-
lions of the Old World, it is abso-
lute^ certain that the relative well-
being of our negroes, compared with
their race elsewhere, is quite equal to
our own.

This, then, is that condition of the
negro which, by an absurd abuse of
terms and a monstrous falsehood, is
called " slavery," the absurdity of
which and the falsehood of which may
be fully comprehended when we re-
member that men do not propagate or
multiply in a condition of slavery, and
half a million of our American ne-
groes have multiplied into four mil-
lions in eighty years.

But the relative right or wrong of
this condition, or this so-called slavery
of the negro, is not the question before
the country. If it were as pregnant
of evil as ignorance and folly claim it
to be ; if, in short, the negroes of the
South were as brutally and wrong-
fully treated as Mrs. Stowe and the
Abolition writers represent, it would
not modify or reduce the horrible im-
pieties of Abolitionism in the slightest
respect.

They assume not that the condition
of the negro should be improved, or
anything of that kind, but that it should
be abolished, obliterated, stricken out
of existence, and that of the white
man forced on him. Or, in other
words, that the distinctions of race
should be ignored, trampled down,
disregarded, and whites and negroes
forced to live under the same con-
ditions, or, as they express it, in "im-
partial freedom" together.

This, then, is the abolition of " sla-
very"— an attempt to reconstruct so-
ciety in the South, and force eight
millions of white people to live on
equal terms with four millions of ne-
groes.

Many ignorant and superficial peo-
ple who affect to despise Abolitionists,
fancy that the "abolition of slavery"
is a mere negation — something gotten
rid of, and, even if it does no good to
the negro, that it can do no harm to
the white man, when, in the nature of
things, it must harm one just as much
as it does the other, though, where the
proportion of numbers vary widely, as
in Massachusetts, New- York, &c, the
evil result is not perceived.

It would seem that to an American
who knows what negroes are in fact,
it should be self-evident that whites
and negroes could not live in " impar-
tial freedom," or a common condition.
They know that God has made the
negro, and, therefore, designed him for
a purpose, else he would not exist ;
and to strive to "abolish" this design,
and force whites and negroes to live
under the same conditions and fulfill
the same purpose, must be impossible,
of course, unless man can really push
aside the Almighty Creator, and or-
ganize a new creation to suit himself.

1865.]

.ABOLITION FOREVER IMPOSSIBLE.

17$

Europeans, who, ignorant of negroes, feet "freedom" of Massachusetts, and,
imagine them " colored men," or men therefore, do not so rapidly destroy
like themselves, save that their skins these hapless creatures, but the aver-
age black, naturally enough fancy age murder or extinction is five per
them entitled to the same rights ; cent, in the so-called free States in
but that Americans, in juxtaposition contrast with four per cent, increase
w.th these people, could be so be- in the so-called slave States ! Or,
sotted as to adopt the European in other words, South Carolina, re-
theoiy, and so wicked as to strive to cognizing the distinctions ordained by
realize it in practice will be a standing the Creator, adapts her laws and so-
wonder in all coming time. If any cial regulations to the nature and wants
one proposed to " abolish' the distinc- of both whites and negroes, and the
tions of sex, and force men and women result is an annual increase of the
to fulfill the same purpose, every one negro population of four per cent. ;
would sec its impracticability as well but Massachusctt forces whites and
as impiety to the Almighty, who has negroes into "impartial freedom," and
designed them for different purposes, the result is an annual decrease of
Or, if it was proposed to make eagles five per cent. ; that is, the latter
and crows live the same life and fulfill State as absolutely murders her ne-
the same purpose, or bull-dogs and groes as if she did it at once formally
hounds, or, indeed, any of God's crea- and avowedly ! If Massachusetts
lures, to fulfill a common purpose were to enact laws to force women to
with a different being, the impiety and fulfill the purposes or role of men, or
monstrosity of the thing would be should force all boys of the age of ten
plainly apparent. to perform the duties of adult life, it
l>ut, while it should be self-evident surely would be clear that the rapid
to the mind of every American that it mortality certain to follow would be

must needs be impossible to abolish
the distinctions of race, and force
whites and negroes to live under the
same conditions, the actual, material,
palpable every-day demonstration man-

the work of the State or corporate
society that ordained this thing. And
if Massachusetts, wishing to rid her-
self of negroes, should formally enact
that a certain annual proportion of

itcst all about us, places it beyond these people should be murdered in

doubt or possible mistake.

Massaehusetts, New York, &c, have
abolished all distinctions based on
race, and forced whites and negroes
to live under the same conditions, and

order to bring about their final extinc-
tion in that State, the result, whatever
we may designate the process, would
be exactly the same as that done now
in the impious and monstrous effort to

the result is that, within the past five set aside the design of the Almighty,

years, there are 37G deaths and 124 and force different beings to live un-

births among the negroes of Boston, der common conditions.

Some of the States, Pennsylvania, But this gradual murder, or, at all

New-Jersey, &c., have not completely events, killing of the poor negroes of

realized the " abolition idea ;" that is, that State, cannot be accomplished

have not forced on the negro the per- without a corresponding injury to the

180

ABOLITION FOREVER IMPOSSIBLE.

[April,

whites. God has made the white man
superior, with twenty per cent, more
brain, and a widely different brain be-
side, with a vastly more elaborate and
elevated bodily organism, and, of
course, corresponding moral forces,
and, therefore, when in juxtaposition,
holds the superior being responsible,
just as He does the husband or the
parent for the guidance and care of
wife and children. If a white man ab-
dicates his natural superiority, and
tramples on his instincts, or so-called
" prejudices of color," and goes down
to a social level with a negro, and
their families affiliate together, and
their children intermarry, why it is ev-
ident enough that the base creature
would be punished by this unnatural
association quite as much as the ne-
groes themselves. A State or society
is simply an aggregate of families, and
political equality is simply a phase of
social equality, and though the people
of Massachusetts are now saved from
the amalgamation of blood as well as
of condition by so-called slavery else-
where, the people of that State are
punished to the precise extent that
they inflict wrong on the negro. There
being a million of whites and only ten
thousand negroes, this punishment, it
is true, is not perceptible to the mass-
es. It may be understood in part,
however, even now ; not one negro in
fifty is a producer, and the laboring
classes are, therefore, taxed ; then the
gambling houses, houses of ill-fame,
and other dens of iniquity, and in fact
most of the vices of the whites in our
cities, are ministered to by these de-
bauched and perverted negroes. They
have but feeble moral perceptions,
even in their normal condition, and
here none at all ; and moreover, the

great social gulf still separating them
from the whites, prompts the vicious
to select them as their instruments for
carrying out their debaucheries. But
the wide disparity in numbers, as ob-
served, renders all this imperceptible.
All that can now be reduced to fact is
the average five per cent, mortality,
and the inductive fact that it is there-
fore only a question of time when " free
negroism" in the North becomes ex-
tinct, and the inexorable law inherent
in the very nature of things, that
States or communities committing
such crimes as*the "gradual" destruc-
tion of these hapless negroes, must re-
ceive and will receive a corresponding
punishment. But after all, we are the
victims, not the authors, of this horri-
ble delusion. It originated with the
enemies of Kepublicanism in the Old
World. Instinct, if not reason, taught
Pitt and Wilberforce that if they
could debauch and delude Americans
into " abolition of slavery," the " corner
stone of our Republican edifice" would
be torn out, and Europe would have
nothing to fear from the great Re-
public of the New World.

The end sought for was, there-
fore, " impartial freedom'" but they
soon began their devil's work by a
war upon the so-called slave trade,
and have ended it in " universal free-
dom everywhere within their American
dependencies, and their agents and
tools have done their work in the nor-
thern States, and blindly labored for
thirty years past for the destruction of
Democratic institutions everywhere in
the New World as well as the Old.

Taking Jamaica as an illustration
there were four hundred thousand ne-
groes and twenty-five thousand whites.
Of course no one in Jamaica could

1865.]

ABOLITION FOREVER IMPOSSIBLE.

181

dream of such a monstrous thing as
forcing these whites and negroes into
a common condition, or to live under
the same rules and regulations ; but
an outside power forced this horrid
doom on the hapless whites of that
island. The British parliament de-
creed that the distinctions made by the
Almighty should be disregarded, ob-
literated, abolished, and whites and
negroes forced to live together in " im-
partial freedom." The result is that
the negroes actually decline in num-
bers as well as the whites, save in the
interior, where they arc left to a great
extent to their natural tendencies, and
increase slowly, but the whites are dy-
ing out about as fast as the negroes in
Massachusetts; and if the foreign gov-
ernment was now removed, one hund-
red years hence there would not be a
single white man in the island, nor a
single negro that was " civilized," that
was a Christian, that could speak En-
glish, or retained anything whatever
that had been impressed on them in
other days by the superior but then
extinct white man !

Here, then, would be the final end —
the grand result one hundred years
hence — the total extinction of the
the white man in the tropics. The
"abolition of slavery" would be the
abolition of the hapless negroes of
Massachusetts, and the abolition of
the white men of Jamaica, and leav-
ing the great central region of the
continent as absolutely African as if
a white man had never trodden its
soil or breathed its balmy atmosphere.
What an awful /actio contemplate !
One hundred years hence, according to
the ratio of mortality exhibited in the
British Parliament, there would not. be
a single white man left in the British

West India Islands, and according to

our own census reports, not one soli-
tary negro left in Massachusetts. In
a blind, lunatic and impious attempt
to abolish " slavery," and force white
men and negroes to live under the
same conditions, they could only abol-
ish a certain number of whites in Ja-
maica and negroes in Massachusetts,
and end with being just as far from
"impartial freedom" as when they be-
gan their monstrous work. They beat
their brains against the eternal order
in vain, and, save in the boundless
evil, the illimitable suffering inflicted
on the victims, and final extinction of a
certain number of God's creatures, the
world remains the same, the social or-
ganism recovers from the monstrous
experiment, and the " abolition of sla-
very" remains as eternally impossible
as life without atmospheric air, or that
the dead can be restored to life.

In conclusion, then, we only need to
apply these facts, and inductive facts,
to the prospective designs of A. Lincoln
& Co., to know, absolutely and beyond
doubt, that, though they may destroy
southern society, and, from inexorable
necessity, drag the North into the com-
mon ruin, they cannot change the ele-
ments of that society or the natural re-
lations of the races, for God does not
permit them to reform His work, and
our daily experience confirms their im-
potency. Or in other words, though
they may murder a certain number of
whites and negroes in their experi-
ment, and inflict calamities, horrors
and miseries unspeakable and illimit-
able on miliums beside, they cannot
abolish the natural order, or force dif-
ferent beings to live under the same
condition, or, as they say, in " impar-
tial freedom."

182

SHAKSPEARE AND THE GREEK POETS.

[April,

SHAKSPEARE AND THE GEEEK POETS.

The question so long mooted, as to
whether Shakspeare was a man of
classical learning or not, would seem
to be settled by the resemblances in
many of his liner passages to the
Greek poets. In many places he shows
an intimate acquaintance with Plato,
Horner, Lucien, and Theocrites. For
example, the following exquisite lines
bear a remarkable likeness, in perfec-
tion, sweetness, richness, refined alle-
gory, and divine enthusiasm, to the
great poetic philosopher of Greece :

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this
bank!

Here will wc sit, and let the sounds of mu-
sic

Creep into our ears ; soft stillness and the
night

Become the touches of sweet harmony.

Sit, Jessica ; look how the floor of Heaven

Is thick inlaid with patters of bright gold.

There's not the smallest orb which thou be-
holdest

But in his motion like an angel sings

Still quiring to the young eyed cherubim.

Such harmony is in immortal souls!

[Merchant of Venice, Act 5, Scene 1.

The corresponding passage of Plato
is too long for quotation. It is in his
tenth Bock de Republica, where he ter-
minates with the harmony of the
spheres, and represents a syren sitting-
on each of the eight orbs, and singing
to each in its proper tone, while they
are thus guided through the heavens
in a diapason of perfect harmony — the
Fates themselves chaunting to this ce-
lestial music. No poet more resembles
Plato in fondness for music than Shaks-
peare. He abounds in songs exqui.
sitely adapted to music ; and abounds,
like Plato, with allusions from it to

civil polity and the moral harmony of
life.

Thus in Trolius and Cressida ;

Take but degree away, untune that string,
And hark, what discord follows ; each thing

it meets
In mere oppugnancy.

This play of " Trolius and Cressida''
is Platonic in its sonorous dignity
throughout — abounding in high and
weighty aphorisms, in the more eleva-
ted metaphysics of poetry, and often
in a term and manner classically afi-
tique.

Give me to drink mandagora,

That I may sleep out this great gap of time ;
My Anthony is away.

The word mandagora (Greek, man*
dagoras) occurs three times in Shaks-
peare, and always with the perfect
Greek quantity and accent. The sop-
orific qualities ascribed to this plant,
the mandrake, furnish allusion for both
Plato and Demosthenes. The latter
reproaches his countrymen almost in
the very terms used by Shakspeare,
that they were plunged in such apathy
as if they had drank mandagoras, "or
some sleepy drug that takes the sen-
ses prisoner."*

There is a remarkable similarity
between Shakspeare's monster Caliban
and Homer's monster Polyphemus.
Thus in the "Tempest," Scene 2,
Act 2d :

(Enter Caliban with a bundle of wood.
Slephano gives Caliban some wine, who having
drank twice and being pleased with it, says:)
Caliban — That's a brave god, and bears celes-
tial liquor.

* Eoikate tois mamlragorar pcpokosi.

1865.]

SHAKSPEARE AND THE GREEK P0ET3.

183

Homer's " Odyssey, Book ix.:

(Polyphemus enters bearing a great burden.
Df dned wood. Ulysses gives Polyphemus
some wine :)

He took and drank, and hugely

pleased
With that delicious bevr'age, thus inquired,
Give me again and spare not.

0, this is far above -a stream

Of nectar and ambrosia, all divine.

The scene in "Hamlet" between the
Prince and Ploratio, at Ophelia's grave
is like one of Lucien's in the shades
between Mem'ppus and Mercury.

Thus in Shakspeare:

Hamlet (holding Yorick's skull in his hand)
—Now get you to my lady's chamber, and

tell her,
Let her paint an inch thick, to this favor
Must she come.

Thus in Lucien :

Merdp. — But show me Helen (so famed for
her beauty), for I cannot distinguish her.

Mercury. — See you this bare skull — this is
Helen.

In the " Taming of the Shrew" there
is a passage which is little more than
a translation of an epigram in the
Geeek Anthology.

Thus in Shakspeare :

Happy the parent of so fair a child ;
Happier the man whom favorable stars
Alot thee for his lovely bedfellow.

Thus in the Anthology :

Happy the man who sees thee ; thrice happy

he
"Who hears thee ; a demi-god who kisses thee,
And a perfect god who has thee for his bed-
fellow.

Thus in Shakspeare :

lago— You have lost no reputation at all,
Unless you repute yourself such a loser,

Thus Menander, in Plutarch :

Thou hast suffered no wrong, unless thou
dost fancy so.

Thus in Shakspeare :

Othello — He that's robb'd, not wanting what is

stolen,
Let him not know it and he's not robb'd at

all.

Thus in Epictetus :

For then only wilt thou be wronged when
thou dost think thyself wronged.

Thus in Shakspeare :

Macbeth— Will all great Neptune's ocean

wash this blood
Clean from my hand ?

Thus in JEschylus :

ill the streams rushing from one mouth to
wash away the blood of this hateful deed
would wash in vain.

Thus in Shakspeare :

Ophelia— Then up he rose, and don'd his

clothes,
And dupt the chamber door,
Let in a maid, that out a maid
Never returned more.

Thus in the twenty-second Idyllium
of Theocrites :

I came in here a maid, I shall return
home a woman.

Thus in Shakspeare :

Juliet— Eomeo is banished— to speak that

word
Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,
All slain — all dead !

Thus in the Uliad of Homer :

Yet while my Hector still survives, I see
My father, mother, brethren, all in thee.
Alas ! my parents, brothers, kindred, all
Once more will perish if my Hector fall.

The one sets the same value on Bo-
rneo that the other does on Hector.
Very many instances more might be
given to show that Shakspeare was a
profound student of the Greek poets.
Homer, especially lie must have stud-
ied with all the enthusiasm of a devo-
tee. Homer is the great master of

184

AN ITALIAN EPIGRAM.

[April,

grandeur and sublimity. His images a copy of the " Choephorae" of iEschy-

are finished and perfect pieces. He is las. Hamlet and Horatio are caunter-

a master in all professions — a poet, parts of Orestes and Pylades, in the

actor, mathematician, philosopher, as- " Choephoree." So kve &gisthu& and

tronomer, geographer, metaphysician, Clytemnestra of Claudius and Gertrude.

and wit. But,in all these things, the En- In the the " Ghoephoroe," JEgisthus, in

glish pupil equaled, and in some, sur- connivance with Clymnestr a, the king's

passed his great Greek master. In the wife, murders A gamemnon to obtain his

plays of iEschylus, who mry be called throne. In "Hamlet" Claudius, in

the inventor of tragedy, are found the common with Gertrude, the Queen,

highest models of everything that re- does the same. iEgisthus was cousin

gards mechanism and theatrical deco- to the murdered Agamemnon. Claudi-

ration. Such a master of the passions us was brother to the murdered king

was the genius of ^Eschylus that after in " Hamlet." iEgisthus is killed by

the performance of one of his martial the son of the murdered king; the

tragedies the people marched immedi- same in "Hamlet." Both were incit-

ately from the theatre to the battle- ed by supernatural means ; the one by

field of Marathon. Forty of the trage- an oracle, the other by a ghost. Not

dies of this great master were re- only the plots but manv expressions

warded with the public prize. The in the two tragedies are the same*
plot of " Hamlet" is, in many respects,

AN ITALIAN EPIGRAM.

JPentiti a un dissohdo moribando,
D'tsse un Frate, per die?

Ho della scala in fondos

Visto il demonio che venia per te»

Sotto qualftgura ?

If un ctsino — eh badaie,

La vosira ombro v'avra j'atio panra.
11 Repent, repent ye ! " a friar was crying,
To an old debauchee who lay dying,
"Because at the toot of the stairs, it is true,
I just saw the devil awaiting for you."
" O say ! in what shape ?" cried the sinner, " Alas!"
"Why," said the friar, "in the shape of an ass."
»« Ah, then," said the man, " I may need not your prayers —
Your shadow you saw at the foot of the stairs."

1865.J

CONSERVATIVE AND RADICAL DEMOCRATS.

185

"CONSERVATIVE" AND "RADICAL" DEMOCRATS.

The words " radical and " conserva-
tive," as applied to Democrats, are
used in an inverted sense ; that is, for
just the reverse of their true meaning'.
To conserve is to preserve. Webster
defines a conservative, " One ivho aims
to preserve from ruin, innovation, or
radical change." Radicalism he de-
fines, " The doctrine or principle of
making radical reform in government,
by overturning or changing the existing
state of things.11

" Conservative Democrat" is, there-
fore, a preservative Democrat, or one
who seeks to preserve the time-honor-
ed records and principles of the party.
A " radical Democrat" is, properly
speaking, one who inclines towards
the revolutionary radicalism of the
Republican party sufficiently to give
aid and support to its war. A radical
Democrat is more or less a Lincolnized
Democrat. The nearer he approxi-
mates to the extreme theory of the
right of the federal servant to wage
war upon its sovereign masters, the
States, the more radical he is. The
more he is like Lincoln, Sumner, Wade,
Seward, and all that cabal of war-
begetting and war-supporting vaga-
bonds ; the more he is to be decried,
and to be called radical. On the other
hand, the more widely he departs from
all sympathy wi/h this class, and the
more firmly he adheres to the old doc-
trines of the Democratic party, the
more conservative he is. lie is a pre-
server of Democracy — a supporter of
its old landmarks — a defender of the
fundamental principles of self-govern-
ment, on which the party was first or-
ganized, and on which it rested in
every campaign from 1800 to 18G0.

These principles were ever clearly de-
fined. They were never brought into
controversy in any general convention
of the party. They affirmed the un-
impaired sovereignty of the States,
and the consequent subordination of
the federal government, and its re-
strictions within the limits of the
Constitution, strictly interpreted. Un-
der such an interpretation of the
limits of federal power, and of the
sovereignty of the States, no war like
this could ever have occurred. It is
the quality of sovereignty that it can
have no master. It may have many
servants — many agents of its will — but
it has no master. The conservative
Democrat still holds on to those grand
principles. The war is based upon an
exactly opposite theory, or upon the
anti-Democratic theory that the States
are the subjects of the federal govern-
ment, and may be coerced by it, the
same as the colonies of a monarchical
or despotic government may be subju-
gated to the imperial will. The radi-
cal Democrat, if he does not hold these
preposterous notions of monarchism,
supports a war waged in their defense.
The most decent thing for this sup-
porter of a war against every princi-
ple of Democracy would be to drop
the name of Democrat altogether, and
to go over in name where he has gone
in sympathy and acts, to the enemy of
Democracy. The radical Republican
and the radical Democrat are one in
action. They agree in the despotic
principle which seeks to overthrow
the right of self-government and of
State sovereignty, by the power of
armies. The conservative Democrat
denies this right, lie still adheres to

186

CONSERVATIVE AND RADICAL DEMOCRATS.

[April,

the old Democratic theory of the foun-
ders of the Union, that the federal
government is the subject or the agent
of the joint sovereignties of the States,
and can lawfully employ no coercion,
except that of laws, against the
States. The conservative Democrat
affirms the Resolutions of 1198, which
have been the creed of the party ever
since their adoption ; indeed the party,
as a political organization, grew out
of those resolutions. The radical, or
the partially Lincolnized Democrat,
throws those resolutions overboard as
inexpedient, or, perhaps, as incompati-
ble with the revolutionary notions of
the hour. The conservative Democrat
is an admirer and a supporter of the
fundamental principles of government
on which the federal system was
based. The radical Democrat is a
wanderer from those safe and well-
proved paths, and an adventurer into
the regions opened by the agitation
and the sword of abolitionism. The
conservative Democrat keeps company
with the counsels of Washington,
Jefferson, Madison, and all the fathers
of our country. The radical Demo-
crat keeps such company as Sumner,
Lincoln, Seward, and old John Brown ;
or, if he does not keep their company,
he lends a helping hand to their prin-
ciples. The conservative Democrat is
a believer in truth, honesty, and man-
hood. The radical Democrat is a be-
liever only in cunning, trickery and
policy. The conservative Democrat is
a man of courage. The radical Demo-
crat is a coward. In a word, the con-
servative is a Democrat ; the radical
is something else — more or less Lincoln-
ized, or abolitionized. To use a phrase
not altogether original, the radical
Republicans and the radical Demo-

crats are links of the same sausage,
made out of the same dog. They
agree in the right of State-coercion.
They agree in the virtue or necessity
of the war. They agree in sending
more men to the slaughter-pen, and
in heaping more debt upon the people.
In short, every Democrat who sup-
ports the war should be put down in
the list of radicals. Destructives,
aiders and abettors in the overthrow
of the great American principle of
self-government, which it is the grand
purpose of the conservative to pre-
serve. The habit of calling these
conservatives "extreme men" is wrong

and senseless. Those are the " ex-
treme men" who have been drawn
away from the time-honored princi-
ples of Democracy in the fiery and
bloody paths of Republican radical-
ism— -into a support of its barbar-
izing war. Is he " extreme" who
stands fast, grounded upon the ancient
and immutable principles of Demo-
cratic truth ? Is he " extreme" who
can be neither drawn away nor driven
away from the ancient landmarks of
the party ? Is he " extreme" who can
be neither bribed by office nor fright-
ened by bastiles to forsake the funda-
mental doctrine of Democracy ? Men
talk like fools when they call such
men " extreme" and " radical." They
are the true conservatives — the staunch
preservers of the records and princi-
ples of the party. The fundamental
principles of government do not change.
The policies, tricks, and cheatery of
politicians change, and demagogues
and men of light moral weight change
with them ; but the true conservative
holds fast to the immutability of prin-
ciple, and stands, like another Aga-
memnon, in the midst of the battles
raised by the firey spirit of radical
madness. The conservative Democrat
stands where Jefferson and Madison
stood. The radical Democrat stands
with the supporters of this abolition
war upon sovereign States.

1865.]

LAUGHING AT ALL THE FOOLS.

18T

LAUGHING AT ALL THE FOOLS.

Sitting alone in my study a few
nights ago, reflecting upon the world
and its inhabitants, I almost uncon-
sciously began to map out mankind
into two grand divisions — the one the
theatre of fantastic misery, the other
of equally fantastic merriment. I
said, now which shall I do, lament
with Heraclitus, the weakness and
wretchedness of the one, or follow
Democritus, and laugh at all the fools
and knaves of the other. I remcm
bered that Montaigue preferred the
laughing Democritus to the weeping
Heraclitus : "not," says he, "because
it is more pleasant to laugh than to
weep, but because it is more scornful,
and more expressive of contempt, than
the other." Montaigue adds these
terrible words ; " I think we can never
be enough despised." When Brutus
sought to draw Statilius into the con-
spiracy against Csesar, Statilius re-
plied that he was perfectly satisfied of
the justice of the cause, but he did not
think mankind, and especially the Ro-
mans of that day, deserved the sacri-
fices of a wise man. It was a saying
of Theodorus that he " would not have
a wise man run any risks for a com-
pany of fools." A remembrance of
these little snatches of historic exam-
ple determined my course, so I said
henceforth I will weep no more at the
mistakes of my countrymen — I will
laugh at all the fools and knaves.
"Why should I make myself wretched
for a generation which may be classi-
fied as imbeciles or vassals ? In every
age where a people is found fit to
wear chains, a class will spring up to

put them on. Why should I wear out
my life in weeping for the one ? Why
should I not show my contempt by
laughing at the other ? A free people
but yesterday — boasting of their high
intelligence, and their proud spirit —
to-day allowing their manhood to be
broken as upon a wheel, and submit-
ting, with the docility of asses, to the
lash of super-ignorant rascals ! Shade
of Democritus, help us to laugh at
fools, who still prate of freedom under
their chains ! — who talk of national
honor out of the very bowels of crime !
— who call a debt, that must beggar
toil, and bankrupt capital, a blessing!
— who, delighting in human blood,
like Fanish cannibals, think they are
"advancing to a higher civilization!"
— who murder a thousand white men
to free one negro ! Widow and or-
phan makers calling themselves "phil-
anthropists !" Ministers of Christ do-
ing the work of Satan ! Counter-
jumpers assuming the airs of states-
men ! Thieves, setting themselves up
as. the censors of public morals !
Bankers, rejoicing to lend their capi-
tal to a bankrupt spendthrift ! The
people supporting a war that devours
them by conscriptions 1 What are
all these, but fit subjects for the con-
tempt and laughter of wise men ?
Why spend our breath in trying to
bring such dolts to their senses?
Why foolislily expose ourselves to the
heels of an ass, or vainly attempt to
enlighten his intellect ? Let the ass
go its ways ; and, in the meantime, I
will sit down here and lau^h.

188

PURITAN INSOLENCE.

[April, 1865,]

PURITAN INSOLENCE.

A few weeks ago the people of Bos-
ton had what was called a u Savannah
Meeting." It was a characteristic ga-
thering-— intensely Bostonian and pu-
ritanic. It was the last meeting at-
tended by Edward Everett, at which
he made a speech, which, for its so-
phistry, insolence, and ignorance of
matters discussed, was worthy of the
Abolition tories of Massachusetts.
What brought down the thunders of
applause from the " frog-pondians," as
Poe used to call the denizens of Bos-
ton, was such a sentence as the follow-
ing : " Kino: Petroleum bids fair to
sway the markets of the world, as
King Cotton did." Ah ! we think we
see the "frog-pondians" dressed out
in a full suit of Petroleum, coat, vest,
pantaloons, shirt and all. Pray hea-
ven that some ill-minded person does
not take it into his head to set fire to
these sagacious political economists !
What a calamity such a conflagration
would be ! for then Petro eum would
be left without an orator to persuade
the stupid people of this world that it
is not merely an article of luxury, but
of necessity, like food and clothing.
Besides, King Petroleum has a great
enemy to his throne, which nothing
but the insolence of a puritan can van-
quish, in the fact that in England Pe-
troleum can be manufactured from the
coal, to any extent, at a cost of seventy
cents per gallon.

But let us hear again from the
mouth-piece of puritan wisdom : " By-
and-bye we'll take their rice and the
cotton, and give them our food and
our fabrics in return." Our food!

What food ? New England never yet
produced half food enough for herself.
There are several of the " slave" States
which singly produce more food than
all the New England States together.
Then what would New England "fa-
brics" be without the raw material of
the South ? Not enough to cover the
nakedness of a mouse. But for the
staples of wealth which New England
has annually received from the South,
her people would be to-day compara-
tively poverty-stricken.

Again, the orator of the " Savannah
Meeting" exclaimed : " Poor war-strick-
en, starving Savannah !" How came
Savannah to be war-stricken and starv-
ing? Was it anything but puritanism
that inflicted this curse upon Savan-
nah ? Until puritan anarchism swept
over the fruitful fields of Georgia, that
State had provisions so far in excess
of the wants of its own population,
that it could have spared millions of
bushels to the barren States of New
England. The country round about
Savannah was laid waste by the puri-
tan army. The city was seized by us,
and what provisions were in it were
taken for our soldiers, and then the
''frog-pondians" turn up the whites of
their eyes, and lift up their palms to
heaven, exclaiming, with the insolent
boasting sneer of the puritan, " poor,
starving Savannah !" If the Bosto-
nians can swallow this stuff, let us
send no more missionaries to the snake-
worshipping negroes of Africa, until
we have enlightened the negro-wor-
shipping heathen of New England.

EDITOR'S TABLE.

— "We lately had the pleasure of spending a
portion of an afternoon with the venera-
ble ex-President, James Buchanan, at his
home at "Wheatland." At the age of 84
years he is in the enjoyment of good health,
with his faculties unabated, and his spirits
apparently as fresh and joyous as when we
last saw him, the night before he sailed for
England as minister to the Court of St.
James, twelve years ago. We have nut no
man that evinces a prof o under interest in the
affairs of our country than Mr. Buchauan,
and none who is more perfectly posted in all
the political movements of the day. Even
the local politics of the various states seem to
lie, as in charts, before his mind. To those
who are despondent of the ultimate redemp-
tion of our country from the abolition spoilers,
a visit to " Wheatland" will prove a great re-
lief. Mr. Buchanan entertains no doubts of
the final triumph of the Democracy, and of
the consequent salvation of our country ; and
he gives such reasons for this faith, as will
go far to remove the doubts of the most des-
ponding. For our own part we have never
feared for the ultimate triumph of truth and
liberty, nor doubted the overthrow and pua-
ishment of Liucoln and the partizaus in his
despotism. Bat we know of many who do
doubt— ft visit to Wheatland would go far to
reassure them. Mr. Buchanan has prepared
a documentary history of the latter part of
his administration, which will be published
the coming summer. It will thoroughly ex-
plode the whole arsenal of lies which has
supplied powder for the Republican party for
four years, by the publication of documents,
figures and facts which will not and cannot
be disputed. Such a history is most timely.
It will do much to unmask the hypocrisy
and crime of the despots in power and to
save our country.

— Barnum has delivered a lecturo on "The
Art of Money-Getting.'' The funds, it was
announced, were to bo expended in printing
tho lecturo to send it to the soldiers. Of

whit use could a lecture on the art of money
getting ba to soldiers ? If it were on the art
of getting their honest dues from tlie govern-
ment ic might be of soaii service to the poor
fellows. Or if it is designed to be up to ill e
moral standard of the Abolition war, it ought
to be entitled "the art of stealing spoons and
negroes." But that is a lecture that should
be delivered by Ben Butler, and not by Bar-
num. We never heard Barnaul accused of
such business.

— The Fourth of March (inauguration day),
was the bleakest, til i wettest, and altogether
the most disagreeable day of the whole year.
As if nature shuddered at the calamity of a
second inauguration of Abraham Lincoln, the
heavens above wept, and the earth beneath
groaned under depths of filth. For a short
time towards noon, the clouds lifted a little,
but, at the precise hour of the inauguration,
they settled down again with a density and
blackness truly terrible. It would seem that
God's own hand had drawn a wet pail over
the face of the land, at the moment when the
perjured usurper was to go through the dar-
ing mockery of again taking an oath to sup-
port a constitution he is striving to destroy.

— The Rev. Stuart Robinson, of Kentucky,
details a state of crime and bestiali.y on
the part of some of our generals, which ought
to make a man of even Lincoln's obscene
mind blush. He says :

"Thus, again, your Gen. Stcdman, while
"enjoying the free hospitalities of my house,
"failed to restrain Turchin's infamous sol-
"diersfrom running naked in open dajr in
"crowds through my shrubbery, and driving
"our negro servant women, by their shocking
" shamelessness and obscenity from the
"kitchen. Thus your General Gordon Gran-
"ger wantonly encamped his hosts in our
"lawn, to kindle their camp-tires at the
"roots of our noblo forest trees, tether their
"horses in our young orchards, and pluiuhr
" the promises generally, whilo their general
"pitched his tent, with a mulatto strumpet

190

EDITOR S TABLE.

[April,

"in it, under the window of our family
"chamber."

Perhaps we deceive ourselves in expect-
ing Lincoln to blush at anything ; or, in
looking for the evidence of shame in the
clerical wretches who support all these abom-
inations.

— Andy Johnson, when he took his seat in
the eh air of the Vice-President, on the 4th of
March, made the following startling an-
nouncement : "I am going to tell the truth
here to day." The truth in such a p'ace, and
from such a man, must have been astounding.
Mr. Lincoln has enjoyed the service of a
vast number of prominent liars ; but none,
not even Ben Butler, have be.n a match for
Andy Johnson. The sight of such a doubly-
perjured wretch taking an oath to support
the Constitution, must have made the devil
himself grin with infernal delight. We have
replied to two or three of Johnson's cam-
paign speeches, and we declare that nev-
er before did we meet with such an offensive
mass of ignorance, impudence and falsehood.
The truth is not in him.

— The Thirty- eight Congress is dead. After
a vagabond life of two years it expired at
Washington on the 4th of March. It was a
great tyrant, a great thief, a great liar, a
great fool, and a great scoundrel. We can-
not say "peace to its ashes," because it was
an enemj7 to the peace of the country.

— What is now called " the government" of
this country is a sight to behold. The Pres-
ident an obscene, joking old rail-splitter.
The vice-President an ignorant, insolent,
crunk en sot. The Chief Justice, a man
who is neither a lawyer nor a Christian.
Congress, a cabal of fanatics, thieves, and
butchers. Negroes the favored guests in the
parlor of the White House. White men
more degraded than negroes, in all the chief
seats of office. Alas ! poor country !

— Governor Brough, of Ohio, in his late mes-
sage states that more than twenty thousand
men have fled from Ohio to save themselves
from the draft. He says in many places
" there are not men enough left to fill the
quotas." The same we know to be true of
some townships in New Jersey. It is an
awful sight to see men fiieing from their
homes to avoid being seized by " the govern-
ment, ' and dragged away to be murdered

for the benefit of negroes. A sight which
ought to make the cheek of every American
burn with shame ! The man who can glory
in such a state of things deserves a halter or
a straight jacket.

—We have before us a volume of 208 pages,
written by Parson Brownlow, and published
at Nashville in 1856. On pages 68, 69, 70,
71, 72 and 73 of the took the Parson attempts
a description of the character of Andrew
Johnson. This part of the book was deliv-
ered as a public lecture, in Nashville, the
city of Mr. Johnson's residence. It seems
that Johnson had slandered Major Andrew
Jackson Donelson, and to save himself from
chastisement, denied his own words. So
says Parson Brownlow. We give be) ow a few
passages from this lecture, as published in
Brownlow's book :

" Did he lie out of the scrape? He did :
" Aye, he inglorionsly lied out of what he had
"said — leaving Major Donelson no ground
"for any difficulty with him, although the
" Major had a right to suppose that any man
" base enough to make such charges would
"have no hesitancy in lying out of hi9
"disreputable and cowardly abuse. I
"therefore pronounce Johnson, here in his
" home, an unmitigated liar and calumniator,
"and a villainous coward, wanting the nerve
"to stand up to his own words. * * * And
"from Johnson to Shelby counties, during
" the entire summer, this low-flung and ill-bred
" scoundrel pursued this same strain of vulgar
"and disgusting abuse. With him, a vile
"demagogue, whose daily employment is to
"administer to the very worst appetites of
" mankind, no honor, no truth exists anywhere
"but such as are corrupt enough or fool
"enough to follow him. For such a wretch
"I have no sj'inpathy, and no feelings but
"those of scorn and contempt, and hence it
"is that I speak of him in such terms. * *
" It would be both cruel and unbecoming in
"me to speak of what the dishonest and v.l-
"lainous relatives of Johnson have done, if
"he conducted himself prudently, and did not
" abuse others with such great profusion. He
" is a member of a numerous family of
"Johnsous, in North Carolina, who are,
"generally, thieves and liars ; and though he
"is the best of the family I have ever met
"with, / unhesitatingly affirm to-night that

1865.]

editor's table.

191

"there are better men than Andrew Johnson in
" our Penitentiary t* His relatives in the Old
"North State have stood in the stocks lor
" crimes they have committed. And his
"own born cousin, Madison Johnson, was
" hung in Raleigh for murder and robbery.
<<* * * We do not make the point of
"mean kin against Johnson, only so far as
" it may offset his abuse of others. But one
•'point is his deliberate lying before a Jones-
" boro audience."

It seems that Johnson had publicly denied
that he tried to induce the Governor to par-
don his cousin, and the inexorable parson
produces, in his book a mass of letters and
documents to nail the lie upon him. Brown-
low closed his remarkable speech by saj'ing :
"If Johnson or any of his friends in this
" city think I have said anything offensive
" they know where to find me. When I am
" not on the streets I can be found at No. 43,
"on the lower floor of Sam Scott's Hotel,
"opposite the ladies' parlor. I shall remain
" here for the next ten days only, and what-
" ever punishment any one may wish to in-
" flict upon me must be done in that time.
" I say this, not because I seek a difficulty,
" but because I don't intend it shall be said
" that I made this speech and took to flight.*'

— For more than three years it has been held
a crime by the Abolition butchers to speak
or pray for peace. Tiie natural fruits of such
a barbarous temper — demoralization and ex-
haustion— are now apparent. We are long
since out of real money, and we are nearly
out of men. Republicans who, two years
ago, would be glad to cut the throat of any
man who spoke of peace, now begin to show
signs of thoughtfulness and doubt. As yet
tins men who believe in the war, — whose fa-
naticism and bad passions produced it — have
not felt its dreadful hand upon themselves.
But if it goes on another year they must feel
it. Their own blood or the blood of their
sons must flow in the cause, or the war must
stop.

— An old friend and classmate from New
England, whose heart we believe is right,
but whose brain is so complctly puritanized
that it is impossible for him to judge cor-
rectly in the matters now at issue, writes us
to say that he "cannot understand our posi-
tion, nor get at what we wish to recommend.'*

Our position is plain — it is that of simple,
unmixed patriotism. We want the govern-
ment, as it was established by our fathers,
preserved ; we want the Union, as they
made it, to stand. The party in power is de-
termined to overthrow that government, and
to fix upon its ruins a centralized despotism.
It is resolved that the Union and the Consti-
tution shall not stand. That is why we op-
pose the administration. We believe it to
be a blood-stained, gallows-deserving traitor.
That is why we oppose it with all the might
we possess.

— A kind cotemporary wonders that " the
editor of The Old Guard seems to be pejfr
fectly indifferent to the heavy loads of abus$
heaped upon him by the Abolition press."
The reason is that we know of no way in
which the rascals could praise us except by
their abuse. Their approval would be of-
fensive it not intolerable. We are fortunate
as old Athengoras who never felt pain when
stung by a scorpion.

— When Saladin, the war-engendering tyrant
of Persia, whose name was a terror among
men, lay dying, he ordered one of his chiefs
to take his winding-sheet and hang it upon a
staff in the manner of a banneret, and march
with it througii the streets of Damascus say-
ing— " This is all that Saladin, the Emperor
of Persia, hath left of his many conquests —
this is all he hath left of all his victories.''
When the bloody hour of Lincoln's life is
over, we think we see a funeral procession,
at the head of which marches a man bearing
a negro's skull, and the impaled body of a
white man, exclaiming, "Behold the em-
blems of all he accomplished by the slaughter
of two millions of people, and the crushing
of unborn generations beneath the mountain
of his debts." The only fitting ceremony at
the funeral of such wretches is not Christian,
but heathenish, and should be conducted by
a tiylla who stirs her blood and makes up a
Ctntaurs banquet.

— A cotemporary is astonished to see "the
Yankee water-drinking Abolitionists cany on
about the election as though they were in-
toxicated." They are drunk on the vinwn
dcemonum.

— The Democracy of Michigan knocked off,
in the late election, 20,000 of the 25,000 ma-
jority Mr. Lincoln had in 1800.

192

editor's table.

[April, 1865.]

—A gifted literary lady asks us in a letter,
" Why do you so bitterly oppose the war?"
Because we are profoundly and sincerely at-
tached to the Union. Our hatred of the war
is in exact ratio to our love for the Union.
To believe that war can save the Union is to
be & fool. To say that war can save it when
we don't believe it is to be a knave. We do
not intend that posterity shall call us either.
We look upon the deluded people who sup-
port this war as Christina, Queen of Sweden,
regarded war-maddened France, when she
said — "France is like a wounded person
who suffers that arm to be cut off which pa-
tience and gentle treatment would have
cured. " That is just the lolly of the northern
people to-day. They are cutting oft an arm
of the Republic that might have easily been
saved.

PEPUBLICAN CHEMISTRY.

Old Abe and his rubble
' In chemistry dabble,

Unlike the philosophers old.
Why ? The answer is quick,
For they've learned a new trick,
Of making o'd rags do for gold.

—Some time ago we took the liberty to laugh
at the great number of generals in our army
by allowing them to remind us of the swarms
of insects upon a cabbage leaf. For this we
were denounced as a "sympathiser" by we
cannot ted how many ignoramuses. But we
are sustained by no less authority than the
great General Monte cuculi, who wrote "Com-
mentaries on the art of War," who says— "A
great number of generals is as pernicious to
an army as a great number of physicians
is to a sick man." Then our army must in-
deed be in a critical condition.

—A truthful young gentleman tells us that
in the country last summer he asked a very
pretty girl to give him a kiss, and she flatly
told him she wou-d not, that he was old
enough to help himself.
—A cotemporary calls the leaders of the Ke-
publican party Puritans and Roundheads.
But is it correct to call such fiats round-
heads ?

—A correspondent asks us if history gives
any other example of a free people throwing
away their liberties as if from curiosity to

see how despotism would seem ? Perhaps
not of a people ; but histroy gives the case of
an individual, in the person of Empedocles,
who threw himself into the flames of Mount
iEtna in a transport of curiosity to know
from what source those eternal fires were de-
rived. Was not his foolishness something
like a match for our people who seem to take
pride in the act of vaulting at one bound in-
to the lowest depths of despotism ?

— Rev. John S. C. Abbot, the author of a
a great number of juvenile books of a very
windy, or wordy character, is delivering lec-
tures laudatory of the great military genius
of Gen. Grant. The same facile gentleman
delivered a sermon (so says the Hartford
Times) in the Col ege street church, New
Haven, three years ago in which he called
upon the government to remove Grant, whoso
drunkenness and imbecillity, as he claimed,
caused the disaster at Shiloh. He is a speci-
men of the sincerity and honest}7' of the
Abolition ministers. Three years ago he
abused Grant without cause, and he now
praises him with a reckless disregard of
truth.

— The Republican papers are rejoicing over
the idea that the Democratic party has but
7,000 votes in New Jersey. Has it? The
Democratic party of the State polled at
the late election, 6,709 more votes than it
did for Parker in 1862, Notwithstanding all
the men sent from the State into the ar-
my, there were 20,000 more votes polled this
fall than in 1862. The Rerrablicans have a
knack of getting an incomprehensible num-
ber of votes into the ballot boxes. We
should think they might get a patent for
stuffing ballot-boxes.

— The editor of the Wilmington Journal,
(Cal.,) says he prefers " water gruel" to The
Old Guard. Of course you do. And if
your stomach is not stronger than your head
we council you to keep strictfy to your favor-
ite water gruel diet.

EPITAPH ON THE THIRTY-EIGHTH CONGRESS.

Here lies, defunct, a foolish knave ;

Whether most fool or knave none know ;
Old Satan who its spirit gave,

Beceives its manes in hell below.

THE OLD GUARD,

A MONTHLY JOURNAL, DEVOTED TO THE PRINCIPLES OP 1776 AND 1787.

VOLUME III. — MAY, 1865. — No. V.

WHITE SUPREMACY AND NEGRO SUBORDINATION.

The supremacy of the white race,
and the consequent subordination of
the inferior or negro race, was one of
the prominent ideas on which the Fe-
deral Union was established. It is an
idea which has been faithfully adhered
to, especially by the Democratic party,
from the foundation of the Uuion down
to 1861. Since 1861, a portion of the
party has been supporting a war de-
signed to overthrow this grand idea of
white supremacy, by attempting to
bring the negro into an equality with
the white race, in the sovereignty of
the country.

It is proper to say that the Demo-
cracy has not adhered so tenaciously
to this idea of white supremacy with
any spirit of intolerance towards the
inferior race, but only as a means of
preserving our own race from the de-
plorable consequences of hybridism,
and of saving our country from that
mongrelism which has destroyed some
flourishing republics, which now live
only in history. But the fundamen-
tal thought whicli has guided the
Democracy in this matter is the wish
to preserve this Government as it was

formed by the great and wise men of
the Revolution. This was a white
mail's government, nor did any one
dream, at the time of its foundation,
that the negro race would ever be ad-
mitted to an equality of citizenship in
the Federal Union. Had such a thing
been imagined as lying within the
bounds of possibility in the future,
the Union would never have been
formed. Not even Massachusetts
would have joined the Union had she
imagined that the time would ever
come when her citizenship, under the
Federal Government, would be brought
to an equality with negroes. The " so-
vereignty," the governing power, of
these States, was in the white race ;
and never, in a single instance, did the
word " sovereignty," or the phrase,
" the people of the United States," in-
clude negroes. Sovereignty always
meant white sovereignty, never negro
sovereignty. At the time of the adop-
tion of the Constitution, in no State
were negroes regarded as a part of the
civil community, or embraced in tho
general term of "citizen." In the
Dred Scott decision of the Supreme

194

WHITE SUPREMACY

[May,

Court, Chief Justice Taney clearly
stated the facts in the following lan-
guage :

"The words 'people of the United States'
and 'citizens,' are synonymous terms, and
mean the same thing. They both describe
the political body who, according to our re-
publican institutions, form the sovereignty,
and who hold the power and conduct the
Government through their representatives.
They are what we familiarly call the ' sove-
reign people,' and every citizen is one of
this people and a constituent member of this
sovereignty. The question before us is,
whether the class of persons described in
the plea in abatement compose a portion of
this people, and are constituent members of
this sovereignty ? We think they are not,
and that they are not included, and were
not intended to be included, under the word
'citizens' in the Constitution, and can there-
fore claim none of the rights and privileges
which that instrument provides for and se-
cures to citizens of the United Slates. On
the contrary, they were at that time consi-
dered as a subordinate and inferior class of
beings, who had been subjugated by the do-
minant race, and, whether emancipated or
not, yet remained subject to their authority,
and had no rights or privileges but such as
those who held the power and the Govern-
ment might choose to grant them."

This decision caused a universal
howl from the advocates of negro
equality, which was, however, as sense-
less as it was noisy. It was easy
enough to rave against it, but no one
attempted to answer it. It was, and
is, unanswerable. In his debates with
Judge Douglas, Mr. Lincoln went so
far as to counsel the people to totally
disregard and set at naught this deci-
sion of the Supreme Court. The only
reason he attempted to give for this
counsel to insurrection and revolution
was that the Declaration of Independ-
ence declared that all men are created
free and equal. In reply, Judge
Douglas showed that the word

"equal" did not embrace negroes, but
only the white race, which was declar-
ing its independence of Great Britain.
His language was :

"I hold that the negro is not, and never
ought to be, a citizen of the United States.
I hold that this government was made on
the white basis, by white men, for the bene-
fit of white men and their posterity forever,
and should be administered by white men
and none others. I do not believe that the
Almighty made the negro capable of self-
government. I am aware that all the Aboli-
tion lecturers that you find traveling about
through the country are in the habit of read-
ing the Declaration of Independence to
prove that all men were created equal, and
endowed by their Creator with certain ina-
lienable rights, among which are life, liber-
ty, and the pursuit of happiness. Mr. Lin-
coln is very much in the habit of following
in the track of Lovejoy in this particular, by
reading that part of the Declaration of In-
dependence to prove that the negro was en-
dowed by the Almighty with the inalienable
right of equality with white men. Now, I
say to you, my fellow-citizens, that in my
opinion, the signers of the Declaration had
no reference to the negro whatever, when
they declared all men to be created equal.
They desired to express by that phrase white
men, men of European birth and European
descent, and had no reference either to the
negro, the savage Indians, the Fejee, the
Malay, or any other inferior and degraded
race, when they spoke of the equality of
men. One great evidence that such was
their understanding, is to be found in the
fact that at that time every one of the thir-
teen colonies was a slaveholding colony,
every signer of the Declaration represented
a slaveholding constituency, and we know
that no one of them emancipated his slaves,
much less offered citizenship to them when
they signed the Declaratien ; and yet, it they
intended to declare that the negro was the
equal of the white man, and entitled by di-
vine right to an equality with him, they were
bound, as honest men, that day and hour to
have put their negroes on an equality with
themselves. Instead of doing so, with up-
lifted eyes to heaven they implored the di-

1865.]

AND NEGRO SUBORDINATION.

195

vine blessing upon them, during the seven
years' bloody war they had to fight to main-
tain that Declaration, never dreaming that
they were violating divine law by still hold-
ing the negroes in bondage and depriving
them of equality."

The only reply Mr. Lincoln could
make to this conclusive answer was to
exclaim that if the Declaration of In-
dependence does not include negroes,
11 let us get the statute-book where we find
it and tear it out. If it is not true, let
us tear it out." That is, if the Declara-
tion of Independence does not include
negroes, does not teach negro equality
with the white race, let us tear it to
pieces. That was Mr. Lincoln's feel-
ing in 1858, and no one can fjay that
he has not faithfully adhered to it, in
his grotesque administration of the
Government. In his crusade after ne-
gro equality, he has torn not only the
Declaration of Independence to pieces,
but he has torn the Constitution to
pieces, and he has torn his country to
pieces. This is the heart of the whole
conflict. If he, and his mob of vi-
cious fanatics in Congress were to give
up the pursuit of negro equality to-day,
they would disband their armies to-
morrow. There is neither sap nor
marrow in the war, stript of this idea
of negro equality. This is the summum
bonum of the whole thing. It is an
infidel, murderous revolution, underta-
ken for the purpose of making negroes
what neither God nor the Constitution
ever designed they should be, the equal
of the white race. For the sake of de-
luding the people, the cunning sup-
porters of this revolution sometimes
say that they mean " negro equality be-
fore the laws." But that is just what
the negro is not, before (he fundamen-
tal laws of our country. The Consti-
tution and laws deny him this equali-

ty, and there is no way of giving it to
him but by revolutionizing and over-
throwing the Federal Government.
This is the point which we have re-
peatedly offered to discuss with the
leaders of this bloody revolution ; but
it is precisely the point which they fly
from, and which they dare not dis-
cuss.

In relation to the Declaration of In-
dependence, Chief Justice Taney says:

"But it is too clear for dispute that the
enslaved African race were not intended to
be included, and formed no part of the peo-
ple who framed and adopted this declara-
tion , for if the language, as understood in
that day, would embrace them, the conduct
of the distingished men who framed the De-
claration of Independence would have been
utterly and flagrantly inconsistent with tho
principles they asserted ; and instead of the
sympathy of mankind, to which they so con-
fidently appealed, they would have deserved
and received universal rebuke and reproba-
tion."

If the conduct of the men who made
the Declaration ot Independence was
incompatible with the idea of negro
equality before the laws, how much more
so was the conduct of those who adopt-
ed the Constitution? The Preamble
to the Constitution sets forth by whom
and for whom it was formed. It was
formed by "We the people of the
United States," to " secure the bless-
ings of liberty to ourselves and our
posterity." Now the instrument itself
shows that "we the people," &c., did
not include negroes. They were not
a constituent part of the body politic *
and none of "the blessings of liberty"
which it sought to secure were intend-
ed for the " posterity" of negroes. It
was formed by white men, for the pos-
terity of white men. The Constitu-
tion, in several places, recognizes ne-

196

WHITE SUPREMACY

| May,

groes as a separate and inferior class
of beings. It reserved to every one
of the original States the right to im-
port negroes, and provided for the
raising of a federal revenue from that
negro importation. Again, it protects
the owners of negro labor in their
rights, just as it does any other spe-
cies of property, and promises to main-
tain those rights as long as the gov-
ernment shall endure.

At the time of the adoption of the
Constitution, negroes were regarded
by all the nations' of Europe as an in-
ferior race, not entitled to equality
with the white race, and they had been
so regarded for more than a century.
The authors of the Declaration of our
Independence so regarded them. The
framers of the Constitution so regard-
ed them, and they were so regarded by
all the States which adopted it. Ne-
gro subordination was as much a part
of the general system of the Federal
Government as that of the liberty and
equality of the white race. It was no
more intended that equality should ever
be given to the negro, than that the
white race should be reduced to servi-
tude. As early as 1705, the colony of
Massachusetts passed a law entitled
" An act for the better preventing of a
spurious and mixed issue," which for-
bid marrying between whites and
blacks, and inflicted severe penalties
upon any justice of the peace or cler-
gyman who should join whites and ne-
groes in wedlock. At this time the
people of Massachusetts understood
perfectly well, what science and his-
tory teach to all, that there can scarce-
ly be a greater curse than a mongrel
breed of men.

In 1186 Massachusetts passed ano-
ther law, still more stringent than that

of 1705, against marriage between
whites and negroes. And in its care-
fully revised code of 1836, it made one
more stringent than either of the for- *
mer acts, in which the penalty for mar-
rying whites and blacks was six months
at hard labor in the common jail, and
the marriage to be absolutely nulland
void.

Rhode Island passed a law in 1822,
which was re-enacted in its revised
code of 1844, forbidding marriage be-
tween persons of color and whites, un-
der penalty of a fine, and declaring all
such marriages to be null and void.
In 1833, Connecticut passed a law to
punish any person who should open
any school for teaching negroes not
inhabitants of the State, or for har-
boring persons of the African race
with a view to their instruction, with-
out a written permission from the au-
thorities of the town.

The laws of the State of New Hamp-
shire, of 1815, and in the Revised Sta-
tutes of 1855, exclude negroes from
the militia of the State.

We refer to these acts to show that
even the New England States did not
regard negroes as forming any part of
the sovereignty of the State. They
were ever looked upon as an inferior
race, not entitled to equality, in any
sense, with the white race, until the
unhappy people of these New England
States became demented through fana-
ticism. While reason and common
sense guided their action, they adher-
ed faithfully enough to the grand idea
of white supremacy, on Which this gov-
ernment was based. The precise doc-
trines of the Dred Scott decision were
affirmed by the Chief Justices of Con-
necticut more than twenty years be-
fore Judge Taney's decision. The point

1865.]

AND NEGRO SUBORDINATION.

191

came before the Court of the State of
Connecticut, in the case of Prudence
Crandall, who was indicted for violat-
ing the law forbidding the instruction
of negroes not residents of the State.
The counsel for defence raised the point
that the law was a violation of the
Constitution of the United States; that
the negroes, instructed by the said
Prudence Crandall, were citizens of
other States, and therefore entitled to
the rights and privileges of citizens of
the United States, in the State of Con-
necticut. But Chief Justice Dagget
decided that negroes were not " citi-
zens" within the meaning of that word
in the Constitution of the United
States.

Chancellor Kent, in his Commenta-
ries, declares that, with the exception
of Maine, negroes were not held to be
citizens, nor entitled to the civil and
political rights of white men in any-
State in the Union. At the date of
Chancellor's Kent's writing, a negro
in Maine was as great a curiosity as
a live ourang-outang is in this country
at the present time. The people there
could have had no practical idea of the
irredeemable curse of the spread of
mongrelism, which is certain to follow
the elevation of negroes to an equality
of whites before the law. Civil dis-
ability of negroes was the universal
precautionary rule of these States, to
prevent the vice, disease, and pauper-
ism, which inevitably follow hybridism
from the mixture of the white and
black races. The word "citizen" and
the word " sovereignty" at the period
of the foundation- of the Government,
applied exclusively to white men, and
to the "posterity" of white men. On
this basis the Union was formed ; on
this basis the Union must stand, if it
stand at all. Whenever one portion

of the States succeeds in dragging the
Federal Govornment off of this basis,
and incorporate negro sovereignty
with the white, the remaining portion
will be relieved of all obligation of
adhering to their share of the original
compact. Indeed the Union would be
dissolved, and the onus of dissolution
would be on the heads of those States
which dragged in this contraband ele-
ment of negro sovereignty, and en-
grafted it upon the white stock. A
State, being a sovereign body, can, of
course, make whatever change in its
Constitution and laws it pleases in re-
lation to its citizenship. It can, if it
so choose, elevate negroes to equality
with whites, but only within its own
boundaries. It cannot compel any
other State to .make negroes citizens,
and least of all can it force negro so-
vereignty to become a constituent ele-
ment of the Government of the Union.
That Government is the common pro-
perty of all the States — it is the joint
agent of all the States. The terms
and conditions, the extent and limita-
tions of that agency, are definitely
fixed in the Constitution. The attempt
to engraft negro sovereignty upon that
instrument is revolutionary, and, if
successful, is the overthrow of the Go-
vernment of the Union, in its most vi-
tal part, even in the constituent ele-
ments of its sovereignty. It is the clear
right of Massachusetts to live on what-
ever terms of intimacy with negroes
she pleases. Once she had laws pun-
ishing her ministers with hard labor
in the common jail for marrying ne-
groes and whites ; now, if she pleases,
she may make laws to punish then)
for refusing to marry negroes and
whites. But should she attempt to
force her new miscegeuation principles

198

WHITE SUPREMACY

[May,

upon any other State, that State would
have the right to resist these embraces
of negro sovereignty at the point of
the bayonet. Or should this State of
Massachusetts, by banding- other
States with her, seize, or in any way
get hold of the Federal Government,
and attempt to force negro sovereignty
into that general agency for the States,
every State, that so pleased, would
have the clear right to take up arms
to defend itself from this offensive and
revolutionary heresy of negro sove-
reignty. It depends entirely upon its
own sovereign choice, whether it would
fall quietly into the embraces of mis-
cegenation, or resist them by the whole
force of the State.

From the foundation of the Confede-
racy, down to the election of Lincoln,
there was never a respectable body of
men in our country to dispute the
soundness of this position. The Dem-
ocratic party, especially, has, through
a history of more than seventy years,
been a tenacious advocate of the strict-
est adherence to the letter and spirit
of this Constitutional doctrine of white
sovereignty and of negro subordination.
It has always held that any attempt
to incorporate negro sovereignty with
federal legislation, was revolutionary
in its character, and must result in
dissolving the constituent elements of
the Federal agency. In a word, dis-
solving the Union. There the Demo-
cratic party has stood all through, a
proud, a triumphant history ; and there
it must stand for the future, or lose its
identity, and break like a bubble into
this black and sluggish pool of misce-
genated Kepublicanism.

Some men, calling themselves Dem-
ocrats, whether from ignorance or
treachery we shall not stop to inquire,

tell us that " it is sound policy to ig-
nore the negro question altogether."
The answer is short and conclusive —
that the question of negro sovereignty
was never raised by the Democratic
party : but being raised, it is the busi-
ness of the Democracy to lay it. It is
the mission of Democracy to preserve
this Government intact upon its origi-
nal foundations of white sovereignty;
and whenever an effort is made to drag
it off from this basis, on to that of a
black, a mixed, or mongrel sovereign-
ty, the party cannot, without eternal
shame, surrender to this new and de-
grading African element. That is our
answer to these g-entlemen of easy po-
litical virtue, who would use the Dem-
ocratic party as a mere machine for
official plunder, without reference to
the great fundamental principles on
which this Union was founded. We
stick to the bond. It is not what indi-
vidual prejudices, not what specula-
tive morality may dictate, but what
the Constitution allows, that must for-
ever control our political action.

And this is our position none the
less, since the so-called amendment
to the Constitution by resolution of
Congress. No matter how man}'- State
Legislatures may confirm it, it is still
no amendment to the Constitution, for
the simple reason that the subject mat-
ter of the resolution was never in the
Constitution. It never belonged to
the Constitution. The Constitution
may be amended by a vote of three-
quarters of the States, in any matter
that was delegated by the States to
the Federal Government ; but in no-
thing else. Common sense ought to
teach every man that the Constitution
cannot be amended in what does not
belong: to it. This is not an amend*

1865.]

AND NEGRO SUBORDINATION.

199

ment, it is a subversion. If under the
title of an amendment to the Constitu-
tion three quarters of the States may-
take away the property of the other
quarter, they may just as easily take
away the wives and daughters, nay,
even the lives of all the inhabitants of
the remaining States. Had we a fa-
ther or a brother, who believed that
this impudent Abolition dodge was
really an amendment to the Constitu-
tion, and we were sure that he was
neither a fool nor a rascal, we would
send him to the insane asylum as a lu-
natic 1 There are but two classes of
persons who will claim that this late
farce is an amendment to the Consti-
tution— one of these deserves to be
cured, and the other to be flogged/

But, regardless of all this stupen-
dous folly, the true Democracy will
still cling to the glorious old Consti-
tution, with a heart ever hopeful of
beinc; able to reinstate it as the bond
of Union between all these States.
But there are no just grounds for such
hope except in a firm adherence to the
original idea of white supremacy and
negro subordination. If the Union
stands at all, it must be upon its ori-
ginal basis. If it stands at all, the
negro must be left where God and the
Constitution placed him. To make

him a constituent element of the Fe-
deral government, is to overthrow and
destroy the character of citizenship
under the Constitution — is not to amend,
but to destroy, the Constitution. When
the Federal administration undertakes
to say what shall be the status of the
negro in the States, especially when
it pretends to alter the status of the
negro, in violation of the Constitution
of the States, and of the United States,
it is time for every State to put, and
to keep itself, in a defensive attitude.
The Federal administration has no
more right to force the people of the
States to free their negroes than it has
to compel them to marry negroes.

The only hope of liberty on this
continent is in a firm adherence of the
States to their own perfect control of
all such matters. Give not an inch of
the reserved State powers to the Fe-
deral administration. Not an inch I
Better a thousand times that every of-
ficer of the Federal administration
should lose his head, than the States
should yield the smallest fraction of
their sovereign rights. When the
heads of usurpers and tyrants and the
rights of States come in collison, the
conflict ought to be neither a long nor
a doubtful one.

-<o»-

THE SNOW-FLAKE.

A snow-Hake lit, in falling fast,
On Helen's breast so dear ; •

Finding its whiteness all surpast,
It melted to a tear.

200

DIFFERENCE BETWEEN GOVERNMENT

[May,

DIFFERENCE BETWEEN GOVERNMENT AND ADMINISTRATION.

It is not surprising* that the masses do
not clearly understand the difference
between Government and Administra-
tion, since it is evident that neither
the President nor a majority of both
Houses of Congress understand it.
Or, if they do understand it, we must
hold them to be the greatest villains
and impostors the world ever saw. To
get a correct view of the subject, let
us define the three principal kinds of
government established among popu-
lations.

First, there is the pure monarchy —
monos krateo — the government of one
man. In this form, the government
and the administration are one and the
same. The governing power is alone
in the monarch, who administers it
himself.

Second, there is the aristocracy —
aristoi krateo — the government of a se-
lect or privileged few. In this form,
there is a distinction between the gov-
ernment and the administration. All
the powers of State reside in a class ;
in the lords, nobles, &c. The govern-
ment is in these, but the king and his
ministers administer it.

Third, the democracy — demos krateo
— the government of the people. Here
the distinction between government
and administration is wide and com-
plete. The people are the government;
the sovereign; and the administration
is only their servant, or the agent of
their powers.

In a democracy, however, the gov-
ernment is not in all the people, that
is, not in all the human beings who

live within its jurisdiction. For in-
stance, women and aliens, and negroes,
are not included in the government of
this country. They do not form a part
of the constituent element of its sove-
reignty. A government which was in
all the people would be a panocracy —
pan krateo. The object of the Repub-
lican party appears to be to extend
the area of sovereignty so as to make
it embrace negroes. They do not go
so far as to include women and aliens,
but only negroes. We are told that all
this country lacked to make it the
most perfect and glorious government
on earth, was the addition of negroes
to the constituent element of its sove
reignty. Upon white aliens and wo-
men they do not propose to bestow
this new distinction. All white male
citizens and negroes, they .wish to con-
stitute the government. When they
accomplish this proud aim, the gov-
ernment will be neither a democracy
nor a panocracy, but, ultimately, a
muleocracy, or a government of hy-
brids. A nation of human mules is
the delightful dream of these madmen.
The end would be that a mulatto, or a
full-blooded negro could be eligible to
the office of President. So a majority
of both Houses of Congress, and of
the Supreme Court, might be negroes.
Then the administration of the gov-
ernment would be wholly in the hands
of negroes. The theory of the Mas-
sachusetts, or the New England school
of politicians, is that this will never
be a free country until negroes are ad-
mitted to all the rights of citizenship.

1865.]

AND ADMINISTRATION.

201

This school is already in a majority in
Maine, Vermont, MassachusettsLRhode
Island, Wisconsin, Michigan, and Iowa.
All the other States are still at heart
Democratic, and therefore not, as yet,
negroized. But should the Democratic
party continue in the dubitant or cow-
ardly policy it has followed for the last
four years, a majority of the remain-
ing States of the North will fall into
the gulf of miscegenation, and at no
remote day the Government would be-
come a muleocracy and the administra-
tion, by the dominance of Massachu-
setts' preference, one of negroes and
mulattoes. Shocking as this idea may
be, it is not so disgusting to a majori-
ty of the people in the above-named
States as Abolitionism was, even to
them, thirty years ago. Thirty years
ago it was not very safe for Abolition-
ism to rear its head very' prominently
even in one of these States. But at the
present time a muleocracy, or a negro
administration, may be advocated with
approval in the churches, school-hous-
es, and lecture-rooms of all these States.
An itinerant female, by the name
of Dickinson, not long ago, declared
to an immense crowd in the Cooper In-
stitute, amidst thundering applause,
that the time must come when a negro
may sit in the seat of the Chief Jus-
tice of the United States. Already we
see her prediction half fulfilled ; that
is, we see tluit late honored chair filled
by a white man of negro principles.
The administration of the Government,
at the present time, is in the hands of
white men with negro principles, with
a decided preponderating leaning to
the negro side. As yet the govern-
ment is white, but the administration
is black It could scarcely be blacker
if it were in the hands ot" the negroes

themselves. The idea of Mr. Lincoln
and his partizans, that government and
administration are one and the same,
is entirely worthy of the stupidity of
negroes.

Mr. Hamilton, in No. 11 of the Fede-
ralist, says :

"The administration of government, in
its largest sense, comprehends all the ope-
rations of the body politic, whether legisla-
tive, executive, or judiciary ; but in its most
usual, arid perhaps in its most precise signi-
fication, it is limited to executive details, and
falls peculiarly within the province of the
executive department. The actual conduct
of foreign negotiations, the preparatory plans
of finance, the application and disbursement
of public moneys in conformity to the gene-
ral appropriations of the legislature, the ar-
rangement of the army and navy, the direc-
tion of the operations of war ; these and
other matters of a like nature, constitute
what seems to. be most properly understood
by the administration of government."

This definition of administration is
correct. In no sense whatever does
it mean government, except in an ab-
solute monarchy. In our system, the
whole Federal organization is, in no
sense, a government ; it is simply an
administration. Lincoln and his party
are working to change administration
into government. The government is
in " the people of the several States."
The administration is striving to wrest
the government from the people and fix
it in itself. This is not only revolution,
but if enforced by arms, as Lincoln is
doing even in the northern States, it is
treason, and the just penalty death.
There is not a single northern State
in which Mr. Lincoln may not be ar-
rested and tried for treason ; for hav-
ing overthrown the Constitution and
laws of the Slate by military power.
His whole system of provost marshals
and military commissions, backed by

202

DIFFERENCE BETWEEN GOVERNMENT, &(J.

[May,

armed force in these otherwise peace-
ful States, is an overthrow of the gov-
ernment of these States It is an ac-
complished war upon the sovereignty
of these States ; just as much so as if
the same crime were committed by
Great Britain or France. The Presi-
dent of the United States has no more
right to assume the duties and func-
tions of the State governments than
the Emperor of France has. Much
less has he a right to overthrow the
organic and statute laws of the States.
For what Mr. Lincoln has done in this
direction, it is within the power of
Congress to impeach him, and of the
State governments to hang him. Not
only him, but every provost marshal
and general who has executed his il-
legal orders in these peaceable and
law-abiding States. As old John
Brown was served in Virginia, so may

any one of these wretches be legally
and justly dealt with in every State
where they have suspended the civil
laws by military power. The revolu-
tion now going on to make adminis-
tration government, if successful, will
end the republic, and establish an em-
pire. This the people of all the States
may do if they please. That is, if the
peopld of all the States should, by a
fair vote, dotermine to change admin-
istration into government, then the
change would be binding upon all.
But the administration itself has no
power to introduce such a change. By
attempting it, it is just as liable to
punishment as any other great crimi-
nal, or violator of law. The differ-
ence between administration and gov-
ernment is as great as that between
grantor and grantee, or between a
principal and an agent, in law.

-«o*

A SPANISH EPIGRAM.

Que Fillis con tremore,
Ponga en su pecho flor.

Ya lo veo ;
Pero clie esto astuccio no sea,
Para que otra nor se vea,

Non lo creo.

That Fillis, when she wants a beau,
A rose-bud on her breast will show,

I easily conceive ;
But then that this is not a feat
lo show she has a flower more sweet,

I never will believe.

1805.]

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

203

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.
A NOVEL.

BY THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH.

CHAPTEK X.— (Continued.)

" To see me ! Bless me !" exclaimed
the tradesman, in a flutter of excite-
ment. " Get me my best coat, Mrs.
Guttenberg. Mary, tell the servant
I'll be ready presently. His lordship's
own coach ! What an honor ! Thank
you, my dear. Tidy my cravat a lit-
tle, Mrs. Guttenberg'. It's all about
you, Ambrose. Ill be conciliatory,
but firm."

Firm ! a tradesman with an earl !

" There, my dear, that will do. Am-
brose, take charge of the shop till I
return."

Whea we left the back room we
found Berkeley and the lieutenant-
colonel of the regiment, a gray-haired,
ramrod ish individual, named Garden,
chatting with Mary.

14 Excuse me, gentlemen, but I have
to go to the castle on a little business.
His lordship has sent for me, and his
lordship's coach is waiting, and Am-
brose and Mary will attend to you" —
and with this off went the delighted
printer, riding grandly for the first
time in his life, in a coach with a coro-
net on the panels.

" He's in a doosid hurry, to be sure,"
said Berkeley. " Miss Guttenberg, the
Colonel wants that novel 1 had yester-
day. Is there a copy in V1

"Two oC them, Captain. Which
will you have, -Colonel J"

" Whichever you choose."

"Take care, Colonel," laughed Berke-
ley. " One is dog's-eared, and the
other mortally wounded in the last
leaf. Now, the question is, dog's-ears,
or the veteran."

11 The complete one, by all means,
then."

While the Colonel was examining
some stationery, I took the Captain
aside.

" Are you engaged to-night ?" I ask-
ed.

11 No — at least to nothing which
can't be put off. Why ?"

" Can you spare me a couple of
hours ?"

11 Yes."

" Then meet me at the Crown and
Angel at seven."

" Of course, my boy, if it will oblige
you. What's up ?"

"I'll tell you then."

Out went the brace of officers. I
went to the desk and wrote a note to
Sharp, requesting him to meet me at
the Crown and Angel at seven, if he
were at all interested in a matter that
concerned me very much. I gave this
to a neighbor's boy, with directions to
hunt Sharp up, and get a verbal an-
swer. In about an hour the lad re-
turned with the reply that he would
attend to it.

204

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

[May,

Mary was on nettles all the time to
know what was going on.

It was quite late in the day when
Mr. Guttenberg returned in the noble
man's coach. He was filled with news,
and called me into the back room,
where Mrs. Guttenberg impatiently
awaited us.

" I have arranged it all properly,"
he said. " It was all as I conjectured.
His lordship has been very much de-
ceived in his steward, whom he has
discharged. His lordship is very much
hurt at what you said to him, but
sends his regret at having suspected
you even for a moment ; though I must
agree with him that, under the circum-
stances, the suspicion was not unna-
tural. Of course I promised that you
would apologize for your very rash,
and, I must say, notwithstanding the
provocation, very offensive words."

" This I cannot do, sir. His lordship
was a party to the whole affair."

" How unreasonable and absurd you
are, Ambrose ; and after his lordship,
a peer of the realm, has condescended
to make the first advances, too. He a
party ! Why he is perfectly furious
against Mr. Osborne !"

" Is he ? Will he have his steward
arrested for his attempt to fasten crime
on me ?"

" He has sent him away."

"He will bring him back in good
time."

" Now, my dear boy, you surely
won't refuse, when I've made a pro-
mise. There's nothing disgraceful in
a frank apology for such words to a
superior."

" True, sir ; but here the apology
would involve a falsehood. I am not
the least, sorry for my conduct, which
was proper enough."

"Ambrose," said Mr. Guttenberg,
" I need not remind you that I have
always done my duty by you. I have
treated you like a son. Can you re-
fuse me a favor, and not only lose me
a patron, but gain me an enemy ?"

I was a little affected by this ap-
peal, but none the less firm. I an-
swered promptly :

"I am grateful to you — I would
serve you in almost anything ; but I
will not apologise to Lord Landys, and
certainly will never hold any inter-
course with him. He is an unprinci-
pled man, and my enemy."

"What nonsense ! He's your friend —
spoke of you in the warmest manner,
said you were a young man of the
highest promise ; and even offered to
have you appointed to a post in India,
and to advance a thousand pounds for
your outfit. A thousand pounds !
Think of that !"

" Yes, for some motives of his own
he is quite anxious to exile me to In-
dia."

II Motives ! What could he have ?"
" I do not know ; but I do know

that he's a scoundrel."

" Goodness ! the boy is mad ! A
scoundrel ! An earl ! a nobleman that
will be a duke when his grace of Sel-
lingbourne dies — a scoundrel ! What
folly ! I tell you what, Ambrose, you
are standing in your own light. You
will be of age in a few days. I have
the papers drawn up, all ready to sign
and seal, making you a full partner,
not only in the printing and station-
ery business, but in the Chronicle. I
had always -meant you should share
equally with Mary, as though you
were my own son ; and now you make
me go back of my word."

II I am very sorry, but I can't help it.'*

1865.]

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER

sua

" Then there'll be no Guttenberg &
Fecit, I can tell you. No, sir 1 you'll
be no partner of mine — no anything
here. You shall leave this house. I'll
have no further to do with you !"

" Oh, don't say that, John," sobbed
his wife. " Give him time. He won't
be so obstinate if he has time to con-
sider."

I shook my head.

" I'll give him twenty-four hours,
and not one moment more. Let him
make up his mind by this time to-mor-
row. If he chooses to sacrifice his
home and his prospects, and to repay
me with ingratitude, all through his
selfishness and obstinacy, let him do
it— that's all."

Off flounced Mr. Guttenberg into
the shop, really believing himself a
much-injured man, and I absolutely
and positively heard him speak snap-
pishly to a customer. Mrs. Gutten-
berg cried, and pleaded with me. I
answered the good old soul kindly and
affectionately, but I was determined,
nevertheless. Mary came in and look-
ed on in double distress — a two-head-
ed misery on her part — firstly, on ac-
count of the general unhappiness, and
secondly, because she couldn't tell
what it was all about.

That night I went to the Crown and
Angel, called for a private room, and
directed the waiter to send in those
who inquired for me.

Captain Berkeley came in about ten
minutes before seven.

" Here I am, old fellah," cried he,
"in advance of time. Now, what is

it r

" Wait awhile, Captain. I don't
want to tell the same story twice."

" A council of three, eh ? Who's
the third V

" Mr. Sharp."

"Whew P whistled Berkeley. "Old
money-bags, eh? This will be a queer
confabulation."

"You won't have to wait long, Cap-
tain, for there goes the first stroke of
my godfather."

The last peal of the great bell of St.
Stephen's was still echoing when a
tap at the door announced the servant
who came to usher in old Sharp. The
latter stared in surprise at Berkeley,
and then, recovering himself, said :

" Well, what is it, Ambrose ? Don't
keep me waiting. Time is money."

" I. wish the bankers agreed with
you, old fellah," said Berkeley, gaily.

" Pshaw \n

I hastened to prevent a threatened
explosion by telling the story of the
Earl's attempt, as I had told it before
to the Guttenbergs. I did not give
my own history — it was not needed.
Had I done so it might have saved me
some after trouble. But who knows
his future ?

" Now," said I, when I had finished,
11 the question is — what shall I do ?"

" The Countess is mad, and the Earl
is madder, and Guttenberg is mad-
dest. Mad or no mad," said Berkeley,
" he wants to get you out of the road,
for some reason best known to him-
self. It is quite clear to my mind thai
if you don't go he'll do you a mischief
My advice is, cut and run. What dc
you say, Mr. Sharp?"

" The Captain is right, Ambrose
You must leave Puttenham for the
present, and quickly."

"But how, and when?"

"At once. Four wagons start for
London at two to-morrow morning.
Ono of these will take you. The wag-
oner will not disoblige me j he owes

206

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

[May,

me nine pound five shillings nop'nse
ha'penny. You can get into the wagon
just out of town, and I'll instruct him
what to do. Don't attempt to leave
the wagon for the mail, no matter how
slowly you go. When you get to Lon-
don— but have you any friend there?"

'• Yes ; one I can rely on, I think,
Mr. Paul Bagby."

" Well, go to him, and keep quiet.
Have you any money?"

" About five pounds ; that will last
me until I get employment in some
printing-house."

" Let me give you some money, or
you may get into trouble."

Berkeley raised his eyebrows at
such an offer from Sharp, and then a
second time when I declined it.

" Very foolish," muttered the old
man. " Better lean on a friend's staff
than be struck by an enemy's cudgel.
However, I'll give you a sealed letter
to my bankers when you leave, and
you must promise to avail yourself of
it when you are in need."

I promised.

" Now, go home," said Sharp, "get
what you want at home ; but don't
encumber yourself with a large bun-
dle. Light load, more speed. Slip
out unobserved, and meet us at the
Reindeer an hour after midnight."

" But this looks like flight, and I am
not sure — "

" Not a word," said Berkeley. " You
asked us to do your thinking, and we
have done it. The enemy is too strong,
and you must retreat. Leave us to
cover your rear."

I could see no help for it. It was a
choice between going at once of my
own accord, or of being kicked out
the next day by Mr. Guttenberg. So
I returned home, and when the family

had retired, made a bundle of a spare
suit and some shirts, took the rins*
and other tokens connected with my
history, rolled up Zara's portrait, which
I cut from its frame, and at a few mi-
nutes after one o'clock, let myself
quietly out into the street.

I found the Reindeer. There were
several large wagons in the yard. I
was about to go to them, when some
one tapped me on the shoulder. It
was Berkeley, cloaked. He whispered
to me :

" Keep from the wagon. We have
talked with the wagoner, who will
take you up at a distance from town.
You know St. George Clyst."

This was a church on the high-road,
nearly five miles from town.

" Yes."

" Well, walk on, and remain in the
by-road there. The wagon has one
grey horse in the lead ; the rest are
bays. There are three other wagons,
and yours will start last. When you
see it approach the mouth of the bye-
road, step up to it, and say to the
driver, ' fine night for a race.' He'll tell
you to get in. Keep close until you
arrive in London."

Sharp, who had come forward dur-
ing the utterance of these instructions,
slipped the promised letter into my
hand. They both wished me good-
speed, and I promised to write to them,
and give them the name I should as-
sume, for it was not deemed advisable
to retain my own in London. We
shook hands and parted, and I pushed
on to the place of rendezvous.

I waited at the spot pointed out for
a long while. At length I heard the
jingling of bells, and watched first one
and then two other wagons pass as I
lay in the shadow of the wall. The

1865.]

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

207

fourth, with the light horse in the lead,
came according to promise in its turn.
The wagoner was walking with his
horses, evidently expecting some one.
I advanced, spoke as had been agreed
on, and was helped into the wagon,
which only contained hay and a cou-
ple of bags of feed. The train was
returning empty. I buttoned my great
coat closely around me, and was soon
fast asleep.

I waked up about an hour after day-
dawn. We had stopped at a road-side
tavern, called the Fair-Mile Inn, and
here the wagoner secured me a lunch.
The second night I got out of the wag-
on before we arrived at our stopping-
place, and took lodgings as though I
were a foot-passer. In the morning I
went out before the starting of the
wagon, which picked me up two or
three miles farther on. And this was
the daily manner of the journey.

On the fifth day after our departure
for London, when within two miles of
the town of Coppleton, the fore axle-
tree broke short off in the middle, and
our progress was suddenly checked.
After a consultation between the wag-
oner and myself, it was agreed that I
should walk to the town, and send
back a wheelwright. I did so, although
I had some trouble to find an artizan
disengaged, and more trouble to induce
him to go so far. As I was now with-
in forty miles of London, I concluded
to remain in the town a few days to
recruit myself after my five days'
shaking. So I took lodgings at a quiet
looking inn, sent for my scanty lug-
gage, and bestowed it and myself in a
snug apartment, where I passed a very
pleasant night.

CHAPTER XL,

In which Ifind a former acquaintance, and
make new ones.

The town of Coppleton is of modern
growth, and owes its importance prin-
cipally to its glove manufactories, and
two large establishments for the manu-
facture of chemicals. In the morning
I took a stroll through it, to see what
was most worthy of note. As I roam-
ed up one street and down another,
my eyes frequently rested on flaming
placards, announcing that the theatre
would open on the following Monday,
with a new and efficient company ;
and that the performances, by com-
mand of his worship the Mayor, would
be "Speed the Plough," and "The
Turnpike Gate." I concluded that the
performance would be as good, at all
events, as any I had hitherto seen in
Puttenham, and so I said, thinking
aloud :

" I think, if I remain here so long,
I'll go. Why not ?"

" Why not, indeed V said some one
at my elbow.

I turned. My echo was a broad-
shouldered man, rather over the mid-
dle size, with a square chin, large
mouth, and deeply-set eyes. He was
rather shabbily dressed in an old body-
coat, buttoned closely up to the chin,
trousers polished on the knees, boots
long guiltless of Day & Martin's ma-
nufactured lustre, and a hat garnished
with brown on the edges of the crown.
The presumption was that he wore a
shirt, that being supposed to be a ne-
cessary part of an Englishman's ap-
parel, but there was no ocular evi-
dence of the fact. I made up my mind
as to his profession, from his tone of
voice and manner, and rejoined :

208

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

[May,

" One of the company, I presume Vf

u Sir, I have that honor. My name
is Fuzzy — Oliver Fuzzy. You will ob-
serve my name in large letters on the
posters. I lead the business on this
circuit — play the Hamlets, Richards,
and others — and occasionally demean
myself by assisting in a broad-sword
combat between the pieces. However,
that keeps my hand in for Richard and
Macbeth, and ' I dare do all that may
become a man ; who dares do more is'
not Oliver Fuzzy. For all of which
old Hare, the Gov., allows me a miser-
able sal., when we are playing, and
nothing and nopence a week when we
are not."

"You have a prominent position,
Mr. Fuzzy, and it ought to be profita-
ble."

" ' I do believe your grace,' it ought
to be, but it isn't. We don't play here
till next week, and as I'm up in every
thing we do for the first fortnight, I
have nothing to study, and so I am
roaming through the town, ' a looker-
on here in Vienna,' cogitating on the
ways and. means of raising a pot of
'arf-and-'arf."

Here was a character, and 1 resolv-
ed to study it.

" Suppose you join me in a pot," I
said. " I have played a little myself
en amateur, and have a sympathy with
the profession."

" Will I ? ' Come on, Macduff.' "

" But you'll have to point me out
the proper place, for I am a stranger

here."

" Point 1 nothing easier, as long as
you'll point when we get there. ' 1 do
remember me that hereabouts there
lives,' not ' a starved apothecary,' but
a well-fed publican, who deals in most

excellent potations. Shall I attend
your grace ?"

" Lead on ; I follow," I said, catch-
ing his humor.

We soon found ourselves in a little,
quiet ale-house, in an alley just back
of a plain and dingy-looking building,
which my companion informed me was
the'theatre. By the numerous portraits
of leading actors on the walls, as
well as from its proximity to the play-
house, I inferred that the place was a
resort for actors and their friends. A
couple of pots of half-and-half were
soon foaming before us, and Mr. Fuz-
zy, blowing off the froth, and exclaim-
ing, " Off with his head ! So much for
Buckingham," took a hasty draught,
and replaced the half empty pot on
the table.

" With some bread and cheese, and
a pipe to follow," he said, " this were
a banquet for the gods."

" Wouldn't a chop be better ?" I ask-
ed.

" Chop 1 if there be anything for
which this house is famous, outside of
its malt liquors, it is a chop."

So I ordered the chops, and while
they were preparing, I asked him con-
cerning the actors.

" A very fine company, sir," said he.
" It's true that our juvenile man is ra-
ther shaky — the Governor goes in for
that line himself, and he's past it now
- — fifty if he's a day ; but juvenility is
his weakness. Then he chews his
words like Charles Kean — that young
man'll never make an actor ; I know
it. I've seen him. Otherwise the
company is tip-top, for a poor circuit.
Cripps is our low comedy man — more
than passable ; we've a very honest
fellow who makes an admirable vil-

1865.]

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

209

lain ; and then there's Finch — a good
old fellow is Charley Finch — he does
everything well, and has to do every-
thing, second old man, heavy fathers,
high-priests, eccentric comedy, and so
on Then there's myself — well, I don't
boast ; but I could have trod the Lon-
don boards before now. Lots of city
managers have made me offers ; but
my health, my health, you see — here's
to you, sir ?"

" And the women ?"

" The ladies of the company are cle-
ver— one especially — Cecilia Finch.
She's a prodigy ; the best little juve-
nile, the best daughter, and in cham-
bermaids— well, they haven't anything
in London can hold a candle to her.
Ah, she's a gem I and everything she
does is — done to a turn, I declare."

The last observation had reference
to the chops, which the waiter then
placed upon the table, and which my
new friend attacked with a vehemence
and vigor highly complimentary to the
grazier who fed the sheep, and the
cook who prepared the meal, not ne
glecting his speech in the intervals of,
mastication.

" We have a vacancy in the com-
pany, though ; we want a light come-
dy man. We had one engaged, but a
screw's loose somehow. I suppose the
Governor will scare one up somewhere
in time. And here he comes, and
Charley Finch."

I looked up, and there was my old
acquaintance, Ilarcsfoot, in company
with a slender, pale and gentlemanly
old man. Ilarcsfoot caught my eye,
and recognized me at once.

" Pray, my dear sir," said he, shak-
ing me by the hand, " what lucky wind
has blown you to our coast?"

" An accident," I replied ; " but I am

right glad to see you. You're the ma-
nager, I see."

" Yes, and a very troubled one just
now. The most unfortunate thing in
the world. I've announced ' Speed the
Plough,' and here my light comedian
sends me word three days before we
open, that he is laid up with a rheu-
matism which will prevent his play-
ing for two months-"

u Very unfortunate."

" Unfortunate ! ruinous !"

And here the manager fired off his
peculiar winks, right and left, with
startling rapidity.

" By-the-bye, are you up in Bob
Handy ?"

" I've done it a good while since."

" Do it again. I'll announce you as
a distinguished amateur ; give you
every chance. They're a most dis-
criminating and fashionable audience,
the wealthiest glovers in all England ;
fine women too ; set 'em all crazy. It's
a chance that only occurs once in a
life-time."

I thought over the matter a little
while. There was a love of the stacre
in me. I liked the experiment of the
thing, and had never any of its rough
experiences, and I consented.

Mr. Haresfoot was in a state of de-
light at once, and fired off his double
winks more rapidly than ever. It was
arranged that I should appear on the
Monday following, and if I made a
hit a permanent engagement was to
follow, at a salary about equal to what
I could earn as a journeyman printer
with two one-third benefits during the
year. It was also arranged that my
stage name should be Neville, that of
Fecit not being considered eligible ;
ami as Mr. Neville I was formally in-
troduced to Mr. Finch and Mr. Fuzzy,

210

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

[May,

over a pot of porter a-piece, which Mr.
Haresfoot insisted on providing in ho-
nor of the occasion

General conversation ensued, in
which old Finch bore his part, and I
was struck with the manner and spirit
of the old man's remarks. He was
evidently a man of education, and the
style of his conversation and move-
ments betokened the gentleman. How
such a man could ever have become a
strolling actor was a m}rstery, and I
determined to fathom it if possible.
Finch was a stage name ; what his
real name was I felt certain I would
yet know. I was not of a curious na-
ture, in general, but here there was
something that provoked prying.

I pass over our conversation. As
soon as it closed I accompanied the
party to the theatre, where rehearsal
was about to begin, and was there in-
troduced to Billy Nuts, who combined
in his person the offices of prompter,
property-man, and wardrobe-keeper to
the rest of the company, male and fe-
male.

The rehearsal commenced. As it
was manifestly to the interest of every
member of the company that I should
succeed, one would have naturally
supposed that I should have received
every assistance and encouragement.
But actors have a contempt, generally
well founded, for amateurs ; and do
not believe that any one can ever leap
to a position in their profession. They
think that the only way to attain emi-
nence is to climh the ladder, round by
round ; a belief in the main correct
enough, although, those who have self-
possession, occasionally form excep-
tions to the general conclusion. I
knew of this feeling, and was there-
fore careful to make no attempt at act-

ing during rehearsal, but walked
through my part in the most hurried
and business-like manner. Modest as
was my demeanor, it did not save me
from sneers and contemptuous looks
from every one on the stage except
from Finch and his daughter. Instead
of daunting me, this put me on my
mettle, and I took no apparent notice
of it, much as I chafed under the ma-
licious looks and words of my col-
leagues.

The announcement of " a distin-
guished amateur; his first appearance
on the regular stage," set the good
people of Coppleton in a fever of ex-
citement, and to the great delight of
the manager, every seat in the lower
tier of boxes was taken in advance.
The treasurer informed me as I enter-
ed the theatre on Monday morning for
the last rehearsal, that the box-sheet
presented " a be-yu-tiful appearance,"
and Billy Nuts said to me, as I came
on the stage :

" 'Ere's a go ! Coppleton's waked
up ! There'll be a crushin' 'ouse, and
if you fail after hall this blowin', my
heyes ! won't there be a jolly row !"

When the night came, the little
house was- jammed long before the
curtain rose, and on my appearance I
was warmly received, my stage-pre-
sence being rather striking, and my
features prepossessing. But, to my
utter dismay, a powerful stage -fright
took possession of me ; the audience
seemed to be sitting in a mist, my
tongue refused to move, and my knees
trembled so much that I was scarcely
able to stand. A dead and painful si-
lence fell over the house like a pall,
interrupted by a titter from one of the
side-boxes. I was about to turn and
flee from the stage, when I caught a

1865.]

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

211

glimpse of the face of Fuzzy, mali-
ciously triumphant, at the wing.

Tt recalled my powers instantly.
The stage-fright left me as suddenly
as it had come. Through the part I
rattled vivaciously, my spirits rose
with every scene, never was I more
mercurial ; and every fresh round
of applause gave me new spirit.
The curtain dropped on the epi-
logue amid a deafening shout of the
audience, and I was called before the
curtain (a rare compliment in the
town) with the utmost enthusiasm. I
was announced to re-appear in the
same character on the Wednesday
following, to the apparent delight of
the house ; and the performers crowd-
ed around me on the stage to offer
their congratulations on my success.

"Hit's the greatest 'it, sir," said
Billy Nuts, " has 'as been made 'ere,
by hall liodds. You're no hamachure ;
you're a hactor."

And Billy, in the exuberance of his
delight, qualified his assertion by an
expletive more earnest than pious, and
quite unnecessary to repeat.

CHAPTER XII.,

Wherein Selgrove quite undoes the icork of
Copplelon, until we set two Richards in the
field.

Our season at Coppleton was a great
success. I became the fashion, and it
was considered high ton among the
glove-makers to witness the perfor-
mance of Mr. Neville, " an artist," as
the Coppleton Journal observed, "with-
out a peer in his line of business."'
This should have been true, as Hares-
foot was an undoubted judge of act-
ing, and as he wrote the pull' and paid
for its insertion, it was naturally to be
presumed that such was his unbiased

opinion. But the plain truth was mere-
ly that I was no actor at all, and owed
my success to a fine figure, a rather
handsome face, a strong verbal memo-
ry, and a full flow of animal spirits.
So long as I pleased the public, the
manager did not care to enlighten me
as to my deficiencies ; and because I
pleased the public, my fellow-actors
did not dare to ; and so I believed
myself to be a capital performer. I
know better now ; but fortunately I
did not know then ; and the occasional
sharp criticism of the judicious few
fell from my self-love as harmlessly as
the rain-drops from the back of a wa-
ter-bird. I did not forgive these can-
did critics, nevertheless, for I believ-
ed, as a matter of course, that each
had an especial spite at me, and look-
ed at my performance with the eyes of
envy and hatred.

1 became intimate with none of the
company except Finch and his daugh-
ter, both of whom interested me very
much — wonder mingling with toe in-
terest in his case, and delight ming-
ling with the interest in hers. Cecilia
Finch was at that time about the age
of seventeen, and though her features
were neither classical in their outline,
nor striking in their general effect,
they were nevertheless beautiful from
their sweetness when in repose, and
their archness of expression when lit
up by conversation. I have said that
her features were not regular, her nose
being too small and her forehead too
high ; but she had clear, hazel-grey
eyes, large and lustrous, and a pair of
lips that were delightful to look at in
repose, and were highly mobile under
emotion. In general her manner was
extremely quiet ; but on the stage she
was dashing, without being bold, and

212

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

[May,

piquant without being pert. She was
a deserved favorite with the public, for
she had a deal of talent, capable of
still further development, while she was
respected by the actors in the compa-
ny, aud petted by the actresses. This
popularity was not courted. She kept
herself apart from the rest, and de-
voted herself to her father, to whom
she was a shadow — seeming never
more cheerful than when with him.

That Finch had been born, or at
least bred a gentleman, I had no man-
ner of doubt. His manner, language,
and evidently liberal education, be-
trayed the fact. It was not very long
before I became sufficiently intimate
with him and his daughter to gain his
confidence, and, little by little, I ob-
tained the leading points of his histo-
ry. He had been the son of a
man of wealth and family, and at
the age of twenty had gone off to join
a company of strolling players. His
father, after endeavoring to reclaim
him in vain, had left his whole estate
which was not entailed, to the young-
er brother, and shortly after died.
Finch married a member of the com-
pany to which he was attached. This
completely severed him from his fami-
ly connections, and his lot in life was
fixed.

I should have said, however, that
my intimacy in the company extended
to one more. I became well acquaint-
ed with Billy Nuts, necessarily ; for
Billy was the ubiquitous and energe-
tic factotum of the company, and whe-
ther he prompted the performers,
painted scenery, made properties,
picked out dresses, or murdered the
King's English, he did it with a tho-
roughness quite his own. I soon grew
to be a great favorite with Billy, prin-

cipally, I believe, because I admired
hugely a new scene — an interior —
which he painted for us at Coppleton,
and which, especially when we consi-
der the scanty materials at his com-
mand, was a really clever bit of art.
Billy was full of stories, too. He had
been nearly everywhere, had tried al-
most every line of life, and had a yarn
apropos to every occasion. I used to
spend a deal of time, after rehearsal,
in the paint-loft, where Billy, when he
had nothing else to do, would patch
and re-vamp the old scenery, chang-
ing a worn-out English landscape, by
the introduction of a palm-tree here
and a pyramid there, with divers daubs
of ochre and amber, into a passable
oriental view ; and by a few upright
strokes, surrounded by zig-zag lines,
and some harlequin patches of color,
converting a plain English interior in-
to a Moorish palace. In all this my
former intercourse with Paul Bagby
enabled me to give Billy a hint or two
at times, which seemed to increase his
respect for me amazingly.

Finch, who had a taste for the fine
arts, used to climb to the paint-room
occasionally, and there we three held
confabulation on various matters to
our hearts' content.

I had been about two months in the
company, and our season at Coppleton
was about to close, when I learned the
cause of Finch's continued melancholy.
Tqe poor man had been doomed to
death by his doctor, who informed him
that he labored under a disease of the
heart which might take him away at
any moment. This was the spectre
that haunted him night and day ; that
clouded his life with a darkness the
most terrible, and which neither the
regard of those around him, nor the

1865.]

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

213

affectionate ministrations of his daugh-
ter could for a moment disperse. If it
fostered melancholy, however, it begat
gentleness ; and Charles Finch had
never had a harsh or unkind word for
any one, and never appeared, under
any circumstances, to lose either pa-
tience or temper.

The very day after I had obtained
these facts from Finch, we were in the
paint-room, as usual, and I was sketch-
ing out a scene in charcoal on a flat,
for the use of Billy, when the latter
said :

11 That's a werry goodidear, Mr. Ne-
ville ; Spanish, is it not?" .

" No, Billy ; it is a sketch of a spot
where I was bred.'7

" It looks Spanish. Lord bless you,
we haint no scenery here can hold a
candle to some in Spain. That flat the
Governor's so fly on, I painted from
memory, but it don't come up to the
real thing. If I could draw like you
now, I'd show 'em some paintin'."

" So you've been in Spain, too?"

" I was a walley, sir, to a gent as
traveled in the Peninzelay — an' that
minds me of an event. I've been puz-
zlin' my 'ead hever since you've been
with us, about your face, which I
know'd I'd seen afore — and now I know
why. I seed a young 'oman as looked
as like you as two peas — let me see —
the matter of twenty odd year ago.
My master, Mr. Teignham an' I was in
Cadiz."

Finch started, and colored, for some
unexplained reason, but resumed his
self-possession in an instant. Nuts
went on with his story.

" One night, he sez to me, sez he,
' Villiam, we're goin' to the Consulate.'
'Wery veil, sir,' sez I. Yen ve got

there 1 found he vos to be a vitness to

a veddin'. I seed the marriage myself.
I didn't know their names ; but the
young 'oman vos the von as resembled
you. There ; that kind o' startled look
you put on brings her face back to me
right away."

" What kind of looking man was
the bridegroom ?"

" Veil, a tall, dark-complected man ;
a leetle stiff, but a nob, every hinch
of 'im, or I'm no judge."

" Were they Spaniard's ?"

11 1 think not. They vouldn't 'a been
married at the Consulate hunless they
vos Henglish."

The conversation soon changed, but
I thought over it for some tirre. Was
I always to be reminding every one of
some one else, and never to know even
the names of the party to whom I bore
so strange a resemblance ?

Other matters drove the conversa-
tion away from my mind. Our season
at Coppleton closed, and we next went
to Sel grove. We had no regular the-
atre there, merely a temporarily-fitted
room, used at other times for concerts
and assemblies, spacious enough, how-
ever, and likely to afford ample room
for our audience. For although Sel-
grove was a theatrical town, the resi-
dence of a population fond of amuse-
ments, circumstances robbed us of our
power to attract. A religious revival
had taken place just before our ad-
vent, and the clergymen of the place
preached furiously against the drama.
In spite of the reputation I bore from
Coppleton, in spite of the most flaming
placards, and the most labored adver-
tisements, our houses were meagre at
the commencement, and fell oil' visibly
every night, until an audienc* of six,
all told, caused the utmost consterna-
tion to both manager and actors.

214

THE PEER AND THE PRINTER.

[May,

Well might we be alarmed. The
time for opening at Potterburn, our
next town, was not for three months,
and as all of us, except Finch, were
rather improvident, there was but a
gloomy prospect. Haresfoot managed
adroitly enough, changing the pieces
every night, and trying every expe-
dient his wits could invent ; but all
was in vain. The theatre had been ta-
booed, and the people would not come.
The treasury was soon emptied of the
surplus gained at Coppleton, and
though half salaries were submitted
to, the houses did not afford even these.
At length a council was held to deter-
mine some plan by which we might
retrieve our losses, or fight our way
until the time announced for opening
at Potterburn.

A most forlorn and distressed set of
comedians, to be sure, gathered in
council upon the stage one Saturday
morning. Some had been confined for
a week to a single meal a day,, others
were in debt for their lodgings, and
none knew what to attempt.

"Now, gentlemen," said Haresfoot,
when we had all assembled, " the trea-
sury is barren. Unless some one can
suggest a movement likely to be pro-
fitable, we shall have to suspend our
performances until the season at Pot-
terburn opens."

" I can think of nothing but an emp-
ty belly," growled Fuzzy. "I've been
living for the last week off a pair of
boots, and I can get through next week
on a coat ; but I can't eat everything
I have on my back, you know."

I was aghast at this for a moment.
I had read of people who had eaten
leather and cloth in shipwrecks, but
such a thing was strange in civilized
England in the nineteenth century.

The explanation soon flashed over my
mind that the articles had been sold
and the money devoted to the purchase
of food, and I grew easier. Then, as
no one had any plan to propose, I spoke
up myself and said :

" Have you ever given an entirely
new local piece on the circuit, Mr.
Haresfoot ?"

" No, sir, never. In the first place
there is never any occurrence here to
dramatise, and in the second place the
London play-wrights ask too high for
their pieces."

"Why," I said, "the occurrences
may be invented, and as for the piece,
fudge something out of six or seven
forgotten plays, give the thing a local
name, paint new scenery, with views
of all the principal places in town, an-
nounce it with a flourish of trumpets,
and the thing is done."

The suggestion was hailed raptu-
rously by all save Billy Nuts.

" Hit's all wery fine," said that wor-
thy, "hit's a hidea ; lots o' tin in it, I
dessay ; but where's the money to
come from to paint the scenery? I
can't daub up with nothin'. Prooshin
blue and chrome yaller, an' rose pink,
costs money. There's ten pound o7
whitin', an' a paper o' lampblack, an'
a pound o' glue in the paint-loft ; air*
them won't do. Mebbe Mr. Neville '11
show us how to make paint, as he's so
clever."

" There's a chance to get money to
mount a piece," said Haresfoot, " tho'
I don't like the way. You know young
Phipps, the butcher, That young man
is bent on making an Edmund Kean
or a Judy of himself, and he offers
twenty pounds to let him play Richard
for one night. It will be a sorry ex-
hibition ; but the money is tempting.

1865.] THE PEER AND THE PRINTER. 215

Still, Richard by Phipps — ugh I" " True, Mr. Fuzzy, but under such

We all laughed but Fuzzy ; he was circumstances, and on an occasion — "

indignant. " Occasion me no occasions, Mr.

" Richard \n exclaimed the trage- Haresfoot. Second to a butcher ! Ne-

dian. " Why, who's to play Rich- ver ! It's a desecration of the drama-

mond ?" tic temple — an insult to the memory

" We expect you to do that," answer- of Bill Shakspeare. My love for the

ed the manager. glorious art will not stand it. Be-

"Me ! I'm only to play second to a sides, Richard falls to me as the lead-
London star, you know.'' ing man."

(7b be continued.)

-•♦*-

OLD TIMES.

BY C. CHAUNCEY BURR,

Old times are coming back to me,
Like music o'er the bounding sea ;

Old times !
The merry times when I among
The lads and maidens, gay and young,
Went out, where joy its laughter flung,
Down by the sounding sea,

Old times, when I was free from care,
And joys were scattered everywhere ;

Old times !
We danced away the livelong day,
With now and then some childish play ;
For 'twas the happy month of May,
Down by the sounding sea.

Old times, when boys could take a swing,
With maidens in the pleasant spring ;

Old times !
When careful mothers were not by,
To watch with a religious eye,
The ' vanities beneath the sky,*
Down by the sounding sea.

Old times ! I hate the present time,
When every heart is watched fof crime ;

Old times!
Give me old times, when hearts were true,
And fresh as sunshine in the dew—
The times I came too quickly through—
Down by the sounding sua.

216 "bide your time." [May

"BIDE YOUR TIME*

Ay! "bide your time!"
So ever since the world began,
Has said some cold and cautions man.
What though the tyrants bow you down,
"What though grim Faction frown,
What though the sneering Error reigns,
And vainly Truth complains,
Brave soldier of the fearless pen,
So wont to move thy fellow-men
In stately prose or flowing rhyme,
Now in abasement bowed,
Jeered by the brutal crowd,
Forbid both speech and song,
In silent fortitude be strong,

And bide your time !

Yield to the storm which shakes the land,

And sweeps the oaks on every hand —

Bend, reeds, before it bend

And wait the coming end ;

Their way to crawling minions grant ;

What though our Galileo may recant,

Smit by the tyrant's rod ;
What though the traitors rave and rant,
And boldly swear and say that they
Are patriots who the land betray
To ruin, and the laws to shame ;
In all lands it has been the same—

The earth still moves, by God !
Free speech they now may crush by steel.
By roj>e and lead, and grim Bastile,
Free thought is a defiant crime —

So bide your time !

What! yield my birthright tamely then,
Fetter my tongue and break my pen,
For fear of those deluded men,
Who howl to-day against my speech,
As they to-morrow may at each

Of those who hark them on —
The mob ! the horde of ready tools

In tyrants' hands themselves to break—
The mass of vile and wretched fools,

Who yet in sore surprise may wake

To find their freedom gone.
What ! bide my time, and yield to them \

Cast all my manhood down !
Fling all my rights away !

Not ior the glittering diadem

A monarch wears ! not for his crown,
His sceptre and his sway !
Ere I my honor so delace,
Be false unto my name and race,
Let loathsome death my glances dim,
Pale lips, and paralyse each limb,
That those who from my loins have sprang
May cry — " Whate'er he said or sung
Was said or sung because his soul
Urged to the utterance ; no control
Upon it save his own free will ;
That failing, hand and voice grew still ;
He left no work, no words but those
Defying his and freedom's foes ;
And this he left for brother minds—
• A freeman's soul no tyrant binds !
And, for defying fraud and crime,

All time 's the time ! ' "

THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH,

1865.J

juvemal's satikjss, &c.

211

JUVENAL'S SATIRES AND MODERN MANNERS.

It may be something" to surprise us,
and it may be not a little mortifying
to our republican pride to discover
that, with all our boasted improvement
in the philosophy of human govern-
ment, it is fairly to be doubted if we
have any profounder insight into the
core of the Democratic principle than
the wisest men had two or three thou-
sand years ago. No modern Democrat
has written such satires on the preten-
sions of nobility and kingcraft as are to
be found in Juvenal, who wrote at the
beginning of the first century*. Take
as an illustration the opening lines of
his eighth satire, which have been
thundering into the large ears of no-
bility for nearly two thousand years,
and on what modern page may we
look to find the pfride of pedigree ridi-
culed with equal power and pathos?

" Your ancient house !" no more. I cannot see
Tbe wondrous merits of a pedigree ;
No, Ponticus— nor of a proud display
Of smoky ancestors, in wax or clay ;
iErnilius mounted on his car sublime,
Curius, half wasted by the teeth of time,
Cornivus dwindled to a shapeless bust,
And high-born Gallea crumbling into dust.
What boots it on the Lineal Tree to trace,
Through many a branch, the founders of cur

race,
Time-honored chiefs, if, in their sight, we give

A loose to vice, and like low villains live ?
******

Fond man ! though all the heroes of your line
Bedeck your walls, and round your galleries

shine,
In wax or stone ; yet take this truth from mo,
Virtue alone is true nobility.

And where could you find better de-
mocracy than in these lines :

Hall ! from whatever stock you draw your

bir.h,
The sou of Cossus, or the son of Earth,.

All hail ! in you exulting Rome espies

Her guardian power, her great Palladium rise.

That is the great fundamental demo-
cratic idea, enunciated in Home at the
birth of the Christian era, with an elo-
quence and a philosophy that has ne-
ver been surpassed even to this day.
Every way did Juvenal strive to illus-
tiate and enforce this truth, which un-
derlies the whole superstructure of the
democratic edifice, and which, within-
finite pains and experiment, we have
been endeavoring to fasten upon an
immortal basis ! Alas, we fear in vain!
For what does this fiery spawn of fa-
naticism propose to do but to make
Congress a king over a portion of the
land, and lock it up with laws of its
own, denying the inhabitants the right
of sovereignty over their own institu-
tions ? What does it do but lift on
high its black banner, inscribed with
conditions which not only sunders the
Union, but ends at once the republic ?

But let us return to Juvenal. We
find him defending the ability of the
people to exercise wisely the right of
suffrage, in the following strain :

Were Nero, Seneca, proposed for choice,
What wretch would he-itate to give his voice,
Had he the right of suffrage, (long lost since,)
To the philosopher before the prince ?

A literal prose translation of this
remarkable passage would read thus :
" If free suffrage were given to the peo-
ple, ivho is so abandoned that he would
hesitate to prefer Seneca to Nero?" It
was a compliment to the virtue of the
masses of the people of Koine, in the
fust century, which respect for truth
might well cause us to feel some deli-

218

JUVENAl/s SATTBKS, kC.

May,

cacy in paying to the musses of this
country in the nineteenth. No, were
we Juvenal, we could not, without a
lie, sing such good things of these
people here, as he did of those old Ro-
mans away back there, over the dust
and doom of twenty centuries. Not
the best, is surest of his election here ;
but the cunningest man, the man who
can spend the most money most adroit-
ly, who has the sharpest knaves to
work for him, and who is altogether
least scrupulous in the rules of public
and private virtue. He will be the
successful man ; while 'die man of real
attainments and incorruptible virtue
has before him, we much fear, only a
life of political failure.

But we gather out of the Satires of
Juvenal that, however virtuous the
masses might have been, the politicians
of his day were not much better than
in our own, for in describing their
whereabouts he exclaims :

Go search the nastiest tavern's nastiest hole,
There shall you find his honor, cheek by jowl,
With cut-throats, bargemen, vagabonds,

thieves, slaves,
Hangmen, contractors *'for base biers" and

graves.

But, if Juvenal sang truly, such va-
gabonds got office in his day only when
the Emperor was himself a knave :

But 'tis not wondrous, when the Emperor tunes
A scurvy harp, the lords should turn buffoons ;
The wonder is, they turn not fencers too,
Secutors, Retiarians*— and they do !

The alarming influence of wealth in
our courts of justice has long been a
subject of remark and of satire among
our editors, authors, and reviewers,
but nowhere has this modern evil been
better painted than by Juvenal :

Produce at Rome your witness ; let him boast
The sanctity of Cybele's fam'd host.

* Names of gladiators.

Of Numa, or of Him whose zeal divine
Snatched pale Minerva trom her blazmg shrine;
First to explore his wealth the judges haste,
His honor and his honesty the last.

These weighty matters known, his faith they

rate,
And square his probity to his estate.

Can it be possible that Juvenal was
speaking of Courts of Justice in Rome
two thousand yeara ago ?

But again, let us hear Juvenal laugh
at the insane and immoral pursuit of
wealth, which corrupted, and ultimate-
ly destroyed the liberty of the Ro-
mans :

But here, beyond our power, arrayed we go

In all the gay varieties of show ;

And when our purse supplies the change no

more,
Borrow, unblushing, from our neighbor's store:
This is the reigning vice ; and thus we flaunt,
Proud in distress, and prodigal in want !
Briefly, my friends, here all are slaves to gold,
And words, and smiles, and every thing is sold.

Is not the laugh just as good for us
as for old Rome ? What is there, from
manhood's honor, to maiden virtue,
^hat we do not sell ? How much is it
worth — will it make money f That is
the great question I That blush of
beauty on the virgin's cheek — ask the
mother it she does not hope it will
buy her a rich son-in-law. Yes, she
will sell that too ! Ask the wife,
whose husband is rich only in genius,
and the nobility of soul, if she would
not swap him, did the law allow it, for
that coarse-haired Cyclops, who drives
his horses, and lives in a proud man-
sion upon the avenue !

We learn from our great satirist
that the ladies of ancient Rome, when
fashionably dressed, were quite as near
naked as it has been the custom of our
modern belles to be :

Ah ! how shall vice be shamed, when loosely
drest,

1865.]

juvenal's satires, &c.

219

In the light texture of a cobweb vest,
Thou, Creticus, amidst the wondering crowd,
At Procia, and Pollinea, railest aloud?
These, thou rejoin'st, are "daughters of the

game."
Strike, then, yet know, though lost to honest

fame,
The wantons would reject a robe so thin,
And blusb, while suffering, to display their

skin.

******

Anon, from thee, as from its fountain head,
Wide and more wide the raging pest will

spread,
As swine take meazles from distempered swine,
And one infected grape pollutes the vine.
And we, erewhile, shall see thee lewdlier clad,
(For none at once become completely bad,)
That dire circle which in secret decks,
With flowing bands their brows, with pearls

their necks.

We also learn that they had " strong-
minded women," and " woman's rights
women," in those ancient days, and
they seem to have been very much
such creatures then, as now :

But she is more intolerable yet

Who plays the critic when at board she's set,

Calls Virgil charming, and attempts to prove

Poor Dido right in venturing all lor love.

From Maro, Majonides, she quotes

The striking passages, and while she notes

Their beauties and defects, adjusts her scales,

And accurately weighs which bard prevails.

The astonished guests sit mute ; grammarians

yield,
Loud rhetoricians baffled quit the field ;
E'en auctioneers and lawyers stand aghast,
And not a woman speaks ! so thick and fast
The wordy shower descends, that you would

swear
A thousand bells were jingling in your ear.

To take the full force of this terrible
satire, the reader needs to be told that
Juvenal had been spaking of the hor-
rors of a husband who had a drunken
wile,
Who poiponed all the house with vinous scents.

of woman used to lecture in those
days :

She lectures on the Kalon, and explains,

" In good set terms" at large, the " End and.

Means1"1 —
But should not she who makes a bold pretence
To more than female eloquence and sense,
Abjure all female ornaments, and wear
The coarse, short coat of a philosopher ;
A hog, Sylvanus, sacrifice to thee,
And bathe in public for the iarthing fee ?*

Who will say that they had not, in
Juvenal's time, the real modern wo-
man's-right lecture ? We are per-
suaded that two thousand years have
wrought little change in this type of
womankind. Juvenal exclaims :

0, never may the partner of my bed,
With subtleties of logic stuff my head ;
Nor whirl her rapid syllogisms round,
Nor with imperfect enthymems confound !

Ask the husbands of our modern
"strong-minded" what they think about
it. But we ought to remark, before
leaving this subject, that we are far
enough from desiring to ridicule solid
accomplishments in woman. If God
has gifted her with genius, let her, too
speak, if the occasion come. But the
" woman's-rights" women, so far as we
have known them, we grieve to say,,
have generally possessed neither ge-
nius nor modesty. And that, we re-
peat, seems to have been the charac-
ter of the same class in Juvenal's day,
against whom he directed this awful
satire.

The fashionable women of ancient
Rome yecm to have been a frightfully
pedantic race, who gloried in pretend-
ing to know more of the Greek lan-
guage than they really did of their

And he calls what we denominate the
" strong-minded woman" "more intol-

* None buv, men were allowed to sacrifice a
swine to Sylvanus, or to frequent the public
erable yet." It appears that this type baths.

220

juvenile's satires, &c.

[May,

own. Nor was this folly confined to
young misses, for their mothers appear
to have, sometimes, taught their anti-
quated tongues even to lisp love in
Greek :

All now is Greek: in Greek their souls they

pour,
In Greek their fears, hopes, joys— what would

you more ?
In Greek they clasp their lovers. We allow
These fooleries to girls, indeed ; but thou,
Who tremblest on the verge of fifty-eight,
To Greek it still ! O, 'tis a day too late.
Foh ! how it savors of the dregs of lust,
When an old dame, whose blandishments dis-
gust,
Affects the infant lisp, the girlish squeak,
And mumbles out " my life ! my soul !" in
Greek.

We have hard work to persuade our-
selves that these terrible satires of Ju-
venal were aimed at society in Rome
as long ago as the dawn of the Chris-
tian era. They seem to be aimed at
our own times. At any rate, they are
suggestive, to a disheartening degree,
of the fact that society and manners
have not materially changed in eigh-

teen hundred years. Reform in the so-
cial and moral world seems not to have
kept pace with the improvements in
the world of science and machinery.
New fields have been opened to the
hands of man — to his physical enlarge-
ment— while his brain and heart seem
scarcely to have moved from the high-
est points achieved ages ago. Indeed,
in many things have we not fallen
backwards ? Are not the scales of
eternal justice even and well-balanced
between the centuries ? Is God any
more a respecter of ages than of per-
sons ? While we have gained so uni-
versally on former ages in physical
speed, have we not lost in mental gra-
vity? Where shall we look now to
find a Plato, a Socrates, a Homer, a
Cicero, or even an Epictetus, or a Py-
thagoras ? We study these men with
wonder ; and we have none to match
them. We are able to more than match
the vices of those times ; but where
have we the equal of their great men ?

-♦©#-

EPIGRAMS FROM MARTIAL,

ON SUICIDE.

"When all the blandishments of life are gone,
The coward creeps to death, the brave lives on,

ON A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN.

Fair as the blushing grapes she stands,
Tempting the gatLerer's ready hands ;
Blossoms and fruit in her together meet,
As ripe as Autumn, and as April sweet.

ON A TRUANT HUSBAND.

Flirts, widows, maids and girls, you so respected,
That your own wife you utterly neglected.

1865.]

MASSACHUSETTS AND VIRGINIA.

221

MASSACHUSETTS AND VIRGINIA.

These two great American States
are respectively the exponents, not of
the vulgar notion or stupid prejudice
of North and South, but of opposing
ideas and hostile principles. From the
beginning — from 1188 to 1860 — there
has been a continual conflict, scarcely
perceptible at times, at others rising
into hostility bordering on civil war,
and finally culminating at last, in 1860,
in open, bloody, deadly battle, whose
thunders have shaken the continent.

They were originally settled by
those, and the descendents of those,
who were parties to the great civil
conflict in England between Charles I.
and the Parliament. There were some
from every class in England, some few
even of the Norman chivalry who set-
tled in Massachusetts, but the domina-
ting element was from that rugged,
hard-headed, rigid, somber, puritanic
middle class of English society, which
embodied the old Anglo-Saxon element
that colonized Massachusetts, and real-
ly embodied a larger portion of that
same " Anglo-Saxonism" than proba-
bly remained in the mother country.
So, too, in Virginia there were people
from every class of English society.
Some were from the puritanic element,
especially the Scotch and Irish por-
tion, but the dominating element was
from the debris of the old Norman
aristocracy, and if it could be traced
to its original sources, it is probable
that all, or nearly all, that is left of
that once remarkable and powerful
class would now be found in Virginia.
The English aristocracy of to-day is

almost entirely modern. Great num-
bers of them, it is true, claim the
names as well as titles of the old Nor-
man chivalry ; but the wars of the
Roses, and the still more deadly con-
flict of the King and Parliament, vir-
tually destroyed the Norman element,
and the debris of that element sought
shelter in the colony of Virginia, or, as
they themselves expressed it, in the
" Ancient Dominion."

From these conflicting elements have
sprung the two great States of Mas-
sachusetts and, Virginia, and though
the subsequent modifications of time,
circumstances, and interests, should
have prevented the present awful
struggle, there is a certain consisten-
cy, if not necessity, in this conflict.
Massachusetts, though she had more
to do with bringing negroes from Afri-
, ca than others, had few of these child-
people in her midst, for it did not
" Pay/' and ner enterprising traders,
therefore, supplied other communities
rather than their own with this species
of labor. It did not, therefore, in any
respect, modify the opinions or men-
tal habits of her people, who, originally
largely disaffected to the mother coun-
try, and deeply imbued with the sense
of personal liberty when they left Eng-
land, can hardly be said to have ad-
vanced in their political ideas when
the Revolution of 1116 dawned upon
the colonies.

They were British Americans, pro-
foundly disaffected to the mother coun-
try, but not so in the light of princi-
ples} and the most advanced minds in

222

MASSACHUSETTS AND VIRGINIA.

[May,

New England had only reached that
standard British idea4 that " taxation
and representation should go toge-
ther."

It was widely different in Virginia.
There was there a larger negro ele-
ment than in the other colonies, and it
had a deep and direct influence over
the popular mind. Our opinions are
the result of circumstances, moral or
material, that surround us, and the ac-
tual juxtaposition with a widely differ-
ent and subordinate species of men,
gave development to ideas in Virginia
that might not have been manifested
elsewhere for centuries to come. All
who belong to the race or species, are
" created equal," that is, they have the
same bodily organism, and the same
mental qualities, though these may
vary slightly in degree in some cases ;
but with this same nature, it is a "self-
evident truth" that they are naturally
entitled to the same rights, &c. But
this is so overlaid by accident, time,
circumstances, political and religious
systems in the Old World, that it is only
faintly perceived even at this day, and
the original settlers of Virginia had
probably less conception of it than any
other colonists. But the actual pre-
sence of a naturally subordinate ele-
ment of population served to present
this vital truth, or fact — for our natu-
ral equality is simply a physical fact — ■
with complete distinctness. What
were the petty distinctions of class in
comparison with this great natural
fact of race ? What were family-
claims, wealth, education, manners,
&c, compared with this great fact of
nature ? What were the distinctions
created by pride, vanity, &c, that se-
parated the descendants of the Cavi-
liers from their less favored brethren,

when compared with this great natu-
ral law that alike separated both from
negroes ? What, in a word, were hu-
man inventions, when contrasted with
the ordinances of the Almighty Cre-
ator ? The result was that grand idea
of Jefferson that all (white) men are
" created equal," and therefore entitled
to equal rights, which underlies all our
political systems, State and Federal,
and which some day must become uni-
versal in the old world as well as the
new. It therefore followed, from the
presence of the negro element in Vir-
ginia, that the descendents of those
who in Europe had been the chief up-
holders of aristocracy became in x\m-
erica the authors and champions of De-
mocracy.

The grand declaration of 1116, which
has made Jefferson immortal, was very
imperfectly comprehended in Massa-
chusetts ; but as both communities
desired independence from the control
of the mother country, they, and all
the other colonies, united heartily for
that purpose. Virginia had no spe-
cial disaffection to England, or rather
to English rule, and really fought for
an idea; but Massachusetts, incapa-
ble of that idea, desired alone inde-
pendence not of the English system
but of Englishmen. Their mutual ex-
ertions were harmonious, and even af-
ter independence was secured, and
Massachusetts had failed in the strug-
gle to establish the British system un-
der the forms of a republic, the good
feeling continued until the end of
Washington's administration.

The Government of 17 88, or the Con-
stitution rather, was drafted by Virgi-
nia statesmen, and though the States,
rather than the Federal Government,
are the centers of our Democratic sys-

1865.1

MASSACHUSETTS AND VIRGINIA.

223

tem, save in respect to the Supreme
Court, it was made to harmonize per-
fectly with the Democratic idea, and
the Federative principle was so clear-
ly defined that it seemed almost im-
possible that there should be any at-
tempt to nationalize or overthrow that
principle. But no sooner had the great
Virginian, whose sword had so suc-
cessfully established the independence
of the States, been succeeded by the
elder Adams, than Massachusetts made
a desperate effort to overthrow Fede-
ration, and to rule the whole country
in the name of the "Nation" she de-
sired to substitute in place of the Fe-
deral Union of the States. True, she
did not, as now, directly and constantly
violate Constitutional principles, or
resort to mere military power, but
while pretending the utmost respect
for courts and law, she sought by far-
fetched construction of the Federal
compact to indirectly accomplish
the same result, and under the forms
of law break down the Federal sys-
tem, and build up an oligarchy under
the name of a "Nation." Mr. Jeffer-
son and the great Democratic leaders
of the day met this danger at the
threshhold. Resigning their seats in
Congress, they went home to their
States, and, organizing the Democratic
masses on the basis of the Kentucky
and Virginia Resolutions of 17 98, drove
the Massachusetts party from power,
and from that day the people of that
State have been profoundly disaffected
to the Federal Union, as well as to De-
mocratic principles. True, the gene-
ral progress of the American mind has
reacted on tin; people of Massachusetts,
and, compared with revolutionary
times, Democratic principles have made
considerable inroad on the old puri-

tanic notions, but the majority of the
people of that State seem as incapable
of comprehending Democratic princi-
ples and the true uses of government
at this moment as they were on the de-
feat of the elder Adams in 1800.

The State, as a State, has never fur-
nished a solitary soldier to defend the
country since. In the war with Eng-
land, in 1812, they went to the ex-
treme limit of Constitutional resist-
ance to the Democratic administration,
and had President Madison manifested
the slightest intention to coerce the
State into the fulfillment of its Federal
duties, there can scarcely be a doubt
but that this would have been seized
on by the disaffected State authorities
to secede from the Federal Union, and
to form a separate peace with Eng-
land. Indeed, had not the war closed
at the time it did, it is probable that
the New England States would have
separated from the Southern and Cen-
tral States, and either established a;
New England Republic, in accord with'
New England ideas, or formally re-'
turned to that English system which
then and even now dominates the New
England mind. When Washington'
was menaced by the British troops,
and the capital in the utmost danger
Mr. Madison made a requisition on the
Government of Massachusetts for aid
to repel the invaders, but even then
when the capital and archives, and
honor of the whole country were at
stake, Massachusetts refused to fur-
nish a solitary soldier for their defence.
The noble resistance of Baltimore
which gave origin to the far-famed
song of the "Star-Spangled Banner,"
like all other appeals of the time, fail-
ed to touch the spirit or enkindle the
patriotism of Massachusetts, and

224

MASSACHUSETTS AND VIRGINIA.

Pft*

though in these days of civil war she
first spills fraternal blood in the streets
of that same Baltimore, and next to
"John Brown's Hymn," admires the
" Star-Spangled Banner," in the con-
test with a foreign invader she failed
to send a single man to defend that
city, and any one who then dared to
sing the " Star-Spangled Banner" in
the streets of Boston would have been
arrested and locked up by the police.

All along our northern borders are
the graves of Virginians and Caroli-
nians, who fell in 1812 to protect the
common country from a foreign inva-
der, and the homes of Vermont and
Massachusetts from the desecration of
a foreign foe — the very homes which
in these days send their sons to dese-
crate and despoil their own. What an
astounding fact, to be sure, the graves
of Virginians are found all over this
broad land, who fell in defence of all
the States, while not one can be pointed
out of a Massachusetts soldier, save
as an invader of some of the States,
instead of defender of the whole. In
the Black Hawk, Florida, and Mexican
wars, it was the same ; Massachusetts
was not only opposed to them, but her
clergy, her social influences, as well
as political authorities, abused them
all as barbarous, cruel, and anti-Chris-
tian, and the State utterly refused to
furnish a soldier. Even the regiment
raised by the liberality and patriotism
of some of her citizens in the Mexican
war — that war which won a thousand
miles of sea-coast on the Pacific, and
the golden treasures of California —
was left to perish in the streets of
Boston on its return, by the city au-
thorities, and its worn and mangled
heroes were only saved from starva-
tion by patriotic individuals.

But the disaffection of Massachusetts
to the Federal Union was manifested
on a broader scale than this opposition
to the wars of the country, and uni-
versal sympathy with the foreign foe,
whether British, Indian, or Mexican.
That State has invariably opposed
every acquisition of territory, and
every increase of American power and
prestige. When Mr. Jefferson pur-
chased Louisiana from France, her de-
legation in Congress persisted in
spreading their protest on the pages
of the Congressional Journal, in which
they declared that the Federal compact
was broken, and it was wholly a mat-
ter of expediency whether the Eastern
States should or should not formally
withdraw from the Federal Union.
The State Legislature passed similar
resolutions on the annexation of Tex-
as, and not only did their members
of Congress vote against supplies to
the armies of Scott and Taylor in the
Mexican war, but sought by every
means in their power to prevent the
acquisition of California, New Mexico,
&c.

The formal nullification of a vital
clause in the Federal compact, that of
returning negroes held to service,
scarcely needs to be referred to, for
while by her " Liberty" bills, &c, Mas-
sachusetts has clearly and absolutely
broken up the Federal Union, so far as
she is concerned, it seems insignificant
in comparison with her sixty years of
disaffection and deadly hostility to the
principles of our Democratic and Fede-
rative systems.

But stranger than all besides, this
disaffected State, this puritanic and
treasonable community, which inva-
riably has taken the side of the foreign
foe against the country, and steadily

1865.]

MASSACHUSETTS AND VIRGINIA.

225

opposed all acquisitions of territory
and increase of American power, has
at the same time managed to lay the
other States under contribution, and
through navigation laws, tarifFs, fish-
ing bounties, &c, draws almust count-
less millions of treasure from the pock-
ets of the people. The Federal Gov-
ernment had scarcely gone into ope-
ration when she demanded protection
for her capital, then engaged in com-
merce, and when this capital was
transferred to manufactures, then she
insisted on loading down the com-
merce, and plundering the agricultural
classes for the benefit of her manufac-
turers.

Briefly summing up her history, it
may be truly stated thus ; She never
fought for, for indeed she never under-
stood, the principles of our Democratic
system, but on the contrary has been dis-
affected to that system ever since 1800,
and yet while refusing to furnish a sin-
gle soldier to defend the country, and
bitterly hostile to every acquisition of
territory, and to every increase of Ameri-
can power, Massachusetts has secured
greater pecuniary benefits from the Fede-
ral Union than all the other States toge-
ther !

Such is the history of Massachusetts.
Let us now examine that of her great
rival, Virginia. Virginia furnished
the three great men that may be truly
said to have created the political coun-
try. Washington, who won Indepen-
dence ; Jefferson, who furnished the
principles of our Democratic system ;
and Madison, who drafted the Consti-
tution, and organized, or systematised,
these principles in the form of the Fe-
deral Union.

When that Union was formed, in
1788, Virginia came forward an 1 gave

as a gift to the Federation the great
Northwest territory which she had
conquered from the savages, and which
has since then grown into seven sove-
reign States, and now contains a po
pulation of ten millions of people.
Without proviso, or terms of any kind,
without exacting one penny in return,
in simple, sublime magnanimity, that
grand old commonwealth gave to her
federal sisters a territory nearly as
large as the thirteen original States,
and that some day will contain a hun-
dred millions of people. Charlemagne,
in the eighth century, gave the Pope
a little patch of earth, which, as the
" Patrimony of St. Peter," has immor-
talized his generosity for a thousand
years, but what was this in compari-
son with the generosity and grandeur
of the "Old Dominion," who gave to
her friends and allies a territory larger
than Charlemagne ever owned him-
self?

As soon as the attempt of Massa-
chusetts to overthrow the Federal prin-
ciple was defeated, and the Democracy
came into power, Mr. Jefferson com-
menced negotiations for the purchase
of Louisiana, and the policy of the
Virginia statesman has secured to the
common country even larger territo-
ries than Virginia herself had con-
quered and presented to the Federa-
tion. Either by the direct action of
Virginia, or by statesmen of the Vir-
ginia school, the boundaries of the
great Confederate Republic have been
extended to the Rio Grande and the
Pacific Ocean. Virginia statesmen,
or those bred in the Virginia school,
have conducted all our wars, acquired
every foot of territory, and built up
the grandest power of modern times ;
and during all these sixty years of

226

MASSACHUSETTS AND VIRGINIA.

[May,

progress, and in the face of her own
unparalelled gifts and magnanimous
devotion to the common country, she
has never received one dollar from the
common treasury to benefit any class
or interest of her own. Even when
the surplus from the sale of the public
lands was donated among the States,
Virginia proudly refused *to accept it,
though every acre of these lands had
been presented ae her own free gift to
the Federation. If her magnanimity
was unparalelled in the original gift,
how shall we find terms to express our
reverence for such virtuous abnega-
tion as this refusal to accept her por-
tion of the surplus revenue of 1831.
She was too proud, too virtuous, too
true to the great principles of our Fe-
derative system ever to become, even
in form, the dependent or stipendiary
of the Federal Government, even in a
case where she herself had given all
of that which she was now offered a
part of. In truth, Virginia is so rich
in the great history of the past, so
prolific in the unequalled warriors and
statesmen she has given to the com-
mon country, and so magnanimous in
all her dealings with her Federal sis-
ters, that this refusal to accept the
share offered her of the surplus reve-
nue in 183?, is perhaps appreciated by
few, but in view of all the circum-
stances, her original gift of these lands,
&c, it was the grandest manifestation
of public virtue the world ever saw.

Such, briefly condensed, is the his-
tory of Virginia, and such the result
of the Virginia school of statesman-
ship. While Massachusetts never fur-
nished a solitary soldier to defend the
Union, refusing even to send a man to
defend the capital from a foreign inva-

der ; while opposed to its own Govern-
ment in every war waged by that Gov-
ernment ; and while studiously and
always opposed to every acquisition
of territory, and to every increase of
American power, it has drawn more
money and reaped greater pecuniary
benefits from the Federal Union of the
States than all the other States com-
bined.

Virginia, on the contrary, while ei-
ther through her own, or statesmen of
her school, has fought all our battles,
and acquired all our territories, and
built up this magnificent Confederate
Eepublic, and moreover, magnanimous-
ly given to her Federal sisters the
great Northwest territory — an empire
in itself — she has not permitted any
class or interest of her people to take
a cent from the common treasury.

Is it, indeed, possible to conceive of
two States or communities more wide-
ly separated, or widely different in
their history and bearing on the other
States of the Federation. One, by her
public virtue, magnanimity and states-
manship, secured to us the United
States of 1860 ; the other, if she could
have ruled the destinies of this coun-
try, would have limited that country
to the east of the Alleghanies, and
built up a bastard nation on the ruins
of Federation.

The conflicting principles necessa-
rily embodied in these two great
States have at last culminated in a
war more deadly and destructive than
any other of modern times. The cen-
tral or Confederate Government creat-
ed for their common good, had been
administered by Virginia statesmen
for sixty years in that spirit, and for
the accomplishment of that end, though,

1865.J

MASSACHUSETTS AND VIRGINIA.

221

as observed, Massachusetts had ma-
naged to secure special pecuniary ben-
efits of her own, at the expense of Vir-
ginia and the other States. But, not
content with this, the vanity, egotism,
selfishness, and malignant passions of
her people impelled her to strive for
the control of the Federal Government
to pervert it into an instrument for the
ruin of Virginia, as well as an instru-
ment for the special benefit of herself.

When this common Government was
created, negroes were in domestic sub-
ordination, and excluded from political
society in all the States save Massa-
chusetts.

European governments, especially
the British, had long labored to under-
mine- and ruin American institutions
by abolition of the distinctions of race,
and the consequent mongrelism of
whites, Indians, and negroes ; and
Massachusetts, with her hate of Virgi-
nia and of Democracy, and especially
her semi-Britishism, at a very early
day became thoroughly imbued with
the Abolition ideas of the enemies of
our institutions. The mental activi-
ty, restlessness, and intermeddling
spirit of her people, had thoroughly
perverted the " educated" classes of
the Middle and Western States, and in
I860, Massachusetts combined these
States together, and under the form of
law usurped the Government of all the
States, with the open, bold, and avow-
ed design of using its prestige and
power for the " ultimate" ruin of the
States south of the Potomac, or as her
writers and public men expressed it,
for the M ultimate abolition of slavery."
True, her deluded and lunatic people
did not know this, did not know that
the "abolition of slavery" was in fact

the abolition of society, of Democracy,
of republican institutions ; indeed,
multitudes of deluded fools believed,
or thought they believed, that to abol-
ish the distinctions between whites and
negroes, and their amalgamation in
the same system, was a good to the
people of Virginia. But they did
know that British aristocrats, and the
enemies of our institutions for half a
century past, had been laboring for
this " abolition of slavery," and there-
fore it must be hostile to republican-
ism ; and beyond even that, half of the
entire wealth of the southern States,
according to the census of 1860, was
embodied in this thing termed " slave-
ry," and therefore when Mr. Lincoln
was elected, he and his party stood
pledged to pervert the common gov-
ernment into an instrument for the an-
nihilation of something like half of
the property of their fellow-citizens of
the South.

Yes, Massachusetts, first debauch-
ing the intellect of the northern peo-
ple, combined together eighteen States,
stole the Federal Government by a sec-
tional vote, and elected Abraham Lin-
coln, who demanded that the States
and people south of the Potomac,
should submit to this " Government,"
while they were pledged to pervert it
into a machine for the '- ultimate" an-
nihilation of half of the property of
the southern people. But before they
commenced their work of destroying
the property of the South, they passed
the Morrill Tariff bill, and sought to
make the common Government a ma-
chine for enriching Massachusetts,
while impoverishing Virginia. Or in
other words, a government made for
the common good of Massachusetts

228 MASSACHUSETTS AND VIRGINIA. [May*

and Virginia, is perverted by the for- Such madness, such crime is un-

mer into an instrument for its aggran- paralleled in the history of our race

dizement, and for the destruction of and unless Providence abdicates its

the latter. So stands the case at this functions, and Lucifer hereafter rules

moment, and so it has stood for 4 years the destinies Of human kind Massa-

past ; a million of lives have been sa- chusetts is destined to a punishment

crificed, and six thousand millions of sooner or later, more awful than even

property destroyed to aggrandize Mas- that which overwhelmed Sodom and

sachusetts, and to ruin Virginia. Gomorrah.

*0*

APPEAL TO PATRIOTISM.

Ho, Copperheads ! ye patriot bands, call statesmen to the lead^
Trust not expedient demagogues, nor politicians heed,
Nor follow cowards in the van, when principles they slight,
But those who rather die than yield, or compromise the right.

"We demonstrate a compromise is good for this effect,
To fix a standard rule of right, though useless to protect
Whate'er it makes, and fails to save, and conserve what exists,
For in the end e'en life it yields to foes that still persist.

It is not well, the guardians boast, of compromising trusts,
Betrayed, pretending to conserve, for base and selfish lusts
Of power and place pecuniary. The bold and open foe,
No friend prefer, that fails the time to say the proper no.

Whenever right defers to wrong, results are always ill,
Reverse the cause when that appears, else take the evil still.
Contend again with freedom's foe, on lost conceded ground.
Where freedom lived, where freedom died, the foe is ever found.

What has been done can be again, with circumstance as fair,
By those with equal faith and trust, resolved to do and dare ;
Stand firm, with perfect truth and right conceded, though extreme,
From compromising middle ground, where foes and traitors scheme.

Marcellus Falls, March, 1865. & G«

1865.]

THE PROGRESS OF MURDER.

229

THE PROGRESS OF MURDER.

This once terrible word, "murder,"
has grown so familiar that it ceases to
startle us. It shows how dead the
moral sense and how dumb the voice
of humanity are withiu us. How our
hearts have hardened, as if hammered
on an anvil ! The following case of
the murder of a lad between fifteen
and sixteen years of age, by order of
wretches in Lincoln's uniform, has
been the round of the press without,
so far as we know, arousing a single
practical throb of manly horror in the
sluggish bosom of the public. It was
written by the Rev. Henry Trumbull,
Chaplain of the Connecticut Tenth
Regiment of Volunteers. We give
the article entire in order that it may
be preserved in the columns of The
Old Guard, as a chapter in the history
of this barbarian's war :

" Executions for desertion are com-
mon now-a-days in the armies of the
Potomac and James. As many as six-
ty of the captured runaways have been
confined at one time in the provost
marshal's prison camp of a single di-
vision. The "bull-pen," as this enclo-
sure is universally called, is a collec-
tion of tents surrounded by a close
stockade of pine logs twenty feet high,
guarded on all sides. Just at the right
of its entrance, and outside of the
walls, is a small log cabin used as the
condemned cell. The man who enters
that goes out only to execution. Sad
stories of remorse and agony the walls
of that low, dark, gloomy cabin could
tell. Soon as convenient after a de-
serter is arrested on his way to the

enemy or the rear, and charges are
preferred against him, he is tried be-
fore a general court-martial. The de-
cision in his case is not promulgated
until it has received approval at the
department headquarters. If a man
is sentenced to death, he knows no-
thing of the verdict until the order
comes for his speedy execution. His
suspense meantime is often terribly
trying. Recently seven men, who had
deserted together, and against whom
the evidence was clear, were suddenly
ordered back to their regiment, when
they anticipated death. The command-
ing general had noted a fatal error in
the proceedings of the court, and had
disapproved its findings. Then a man
who had been caught actually outside
of our lines, had his sentence of death
commuted to imprisonment for one
year. These acts of leniency gave en-
couragement to many a prisoner who
had before been despondent. But the
next move changed the current of feel-
ing. A soldier arrested one day was
tried the next, and shot the third.
Again, two men who had been tried
four weeks before, and, from the lon^-
delay, now felt quite easy as to their
prospects, were taken into the con-
demned cell, and thence to the gal-
lows. Two or three da}Ts later ano-
ther, whose trial had also been loner
previous, was out on guard cutting
wood in the forest, when a provost's
deputy came, and putting hand-cuffa
on him, led him back to that dreary
cabin. Then the remaining inmates
of the pen trembled. As the new vie-

230

THE PROGRESS OF MURDER.

[May,

tim was led out to be shot, the provost
called a bright-faced lad from the gaz-
ing* throng at the entrance of the bull-
pen to enter the condemned cell. The
lad's face blanched as he obeyed the
summons ; but he was only ordered to
carry back the blanket of the culprit
leaving for the field of death, and it
was with a flushed- face of grateful
joy that he bounced back to the guard-
ed pen, saying, as he drew a long
breath, " I tell you ! I thought they'd
got me then. He was probably await-,
ing the promulgation of his sentence.
But the saddest case was the latest.
A boy not yet sixteen, born and brought
up in the upper part of New York city,
was met in the street by a hellish bro-
ker, and enticed away to Connecticut,
to be sold as a substitute. He was
far from being a bright boy, seemingly
not full witted, but his childish ways
were touchingly attractive. He said —
and probably with truth — that until
the broker led him off he had never
passed a night away from his parents.
Like a tired, homesick schoolboy, de-
termined to play truant, he started to
run home. Being arrested, he again
clipped off ; but was once more caught,
as he exercised no shrewdness in his
flight. Being tried and sentenced to
death, he was put into the condemned
cell in the evening to be shot the fol-
lowing morning. His boyish grief
when told he was to die was heart-
rending. With unaffected naturalness
he sobbed out his lament over his own
hard lot, and for the dear ones at home.
* Me, so young, to go outside the breast-
works, and see the coffin and grave
there, and then be shot ! I don't want
to be shot. Won't the General parole
me V On being assured that his exe-
cution was a certainty, he urged the

chaplain not to let his friends know
how he died. ' For they'd feel so bad
about it,' he said. ' I suppose it would
kill my father/ (For some reason his
father seemed closer to his heart than
his mother.) ' I suppose it would kill
'era all. They'd be thinking of it
nights. Don't tell 'em about it.'

" Once convinced that it was too
late to obtain a reprieve — no official
short of the department commander
having the power to grant it, and there
being no power to obtain it from him,
and having cried his cry out — he quiet-
ed like a weary child and listened to
all the chaplain could say to aid in pre-
paring him for the eternal future.
Kneeling on the soaked, swampy
ground, under the dripping roof of that
gloomy cabin, in the dark and stormy
night, he folded his fettered hands and
said his evening prayer and commit-
ted himself in seeming confidence to
his Heavenly Father's care. He could
not read, but he had been taught in
one of the blessed mission schools of
New York, and appeared to have a
simple, child-like faith in God. Prob-
ably he had not been addicted to vi-
cious habits. He said, when asked
the way he spent his evenings, that he
1 always worked in the factory day-
times, and when evening came was
tired and went to bed early.' His fa-
ther and mother prayed with him and
taught him to do right. ' If your life
should be spared,' asked the chaplain,
1 would you love God and try to serve
him ?' ' Why, yes,' he answered, ' I
always did love him,' as though in his
childlike trust he had no consciousness
of enmity with the Father to whom he
had been drawn in grateful confidence.
After his first hard cry, the thought of
death did not seem to occupy him.

1865.]

THE PROGRESS OF MURDER.

23)

" He was too much of a child to fully
realize it. Just before he went out to
be shot he turned to the chaplain and
asked, in boyish curiosity, * If I die to-
day, will my soul go right up to hea-
ven to-day V Arriving at the field of
execution, he was not at all disturbed
by the terrible preparation. He walk-
ed up to the open grave and looked in-
quiringly into it without a shudder,
and then he turned to gaze at the fir-
ing party, as though he saw only kind-
hearted comrades there. He kneeled
again to pray as calmly as if he were
to lie down in his own little crib at
home. Just as his arms were being
bound a bird flew by, and he twisted
his head around to follow with his gaze
the bird in its flight as though he
should like to chase it ; then he looked
back again at the bright muskets, with
steady eye as before. ' Let me kneel
on the ground and rest on the coffin,
he said, as they placed him in position.
* No, kneel on the coffin/ was the or-
der. So, kneeling there, he settled
himself down into a weary, crouching
posture, as though he were to wait
thus a long and tiresome time. He
had hardly taken this place before he
fell back dead, with every bullet of the
firing platoon directly through his
chest — three through his heart. He
uttered never a groan, nor did his frame
quiver.

"Even such boys as that are here
shot if they desert. But are they
guilty above those who sent them
here V

Comment upon such a horrible scene
as is here described is unnecessary.
The terrible story cuts through the
mind of every person who reads it.
The judgment of dispassionate history
will be tiiat it was nothing less than
murder ; and yet it is but another il-
lustration of the barbarity and demo-
ralization of war. At first, there was
a hesitation in executing deserters at
all ; now they are popped off with as
little ceremony and thought as a sports-
man would kill his game 1 War has
demoralized us. It has blunted every
humane sentiment, and left upon the
popular mind a disregard of life which
cannot fail to have a lasting impres-
sion upon us as a people. The men
who were guilty of this cruel and in-
human execution would, no doubt, have
shrunk from such a scene of horror a
few years since with inexpressible
loathing ; but war has changed their
natures. The wisest mind is not able
to see where all this bloodshed will
end ; or rather what will be its effect
upon the national character. As well
suppose that a tiger who has lapped
blood will be mild and tractable, as
that a people who have been surfeited
upon slaughter will at once return to
the ways of peace and quietness. God
grant us deliverance from our cumu-
lating woes ; but should such tragical
scenes as this poor boy's untimely fate
continue to be the order of the day,
the time will come when the persons
responsible for them will be as stubble
in the flame of the people's wrath ! J

232 TIMELY READINGS FROM THE POETS. [Ma^

HEADINGS FROM THE POETS.

4J "While glorious murderers
Destroy mankind, to form a tyranny,
We'll destroy tyranny, to form mankind."

— Crown s Darius*

*• So speaks the fiend, and with necessity,
The tyrant's plea, excus'd his dev'lish deed.**

— MHion's Paradise Lost*

*4 Fear no stain ;
A tyrant's blood doth wash the hand that spills it."

— Cartwrighi's Siege*

** Tyrants seldom die
Of a dry death ; it waiteth at their gate,
Drest in the color of their robes of state."

— Atteyn's Henry V1L

" It is a vain attempt
To bind the ambitious and unjust by treaties ;
These they elude a thousand specious ways j
Or, if they cannot find a fair pretest,
They blush not in the face of heaven to break them.**

—Thomson's Coriotarms*

** Tyranny
Is the worst of treasons. Dost thou deem
None rebels excej>t subjects ? The prince who
Neglects or violates his trust is more
A brigand than the robber chief."

— Byron's Two Foscari

is I ne'er approv'd this rash, romantic war,
Begot by hot-brained bigots, and fomented
By the intrigues of proud, designing priests,
All ages have their madness ; this is ours."

— Lfflo's Elmerick*

44 War, noble war! when too far pushed is butchery.

When manly victory o'erleaps its limits

The tyrant blasts the laurel of the conqueror."

—Coleman's Surrender of Calais*

•' Justice is lame, as well as blind amongst us ;
The laws corrupted to their ends that make them,
And made by Heaven to be a monster's prey,
That every day starts up to enslave us deeper."

— Olway's Venice Preserved,

" Yet I must tell thee it would better suit
A fierce despotic chief of barbarous slaves,

|865.] TIMELY READINGS FROM THE POETS. 238

Than the calm dignity of one who sits
la the grave senate of a free republic,
To talk so high, and as it were to thrust
Citizens from the native rights of men."

— Thomson's Coriohms*

"O, power, vilely purchased! — by the blood

Of innocence — by treachery and murder !

May Heaven, incensed, pour down its vengeance on him*

Blast all his joys, and turn them into horror,

Till frenzy rise and bid him curse the hour

That gave his crimes their birth."

— Bowes Barbarossa,

" So smooth is faction, and so great a liar,
As that it never had a side entire." — Daniel*

" Avoid the politic, the factious fool,

The busy, buzzing, talking, hardened knave ;

The quaint, smooth rogue, that sins against his reason,

Calls saucy, loud sedition public zeal :

And mutiny the dictates of his spirit." — Otway.

" Oh ! think what anxious moments pass between

The birth of plots and their last fatal periods ;

Oh ! 'tis a dreadful interval of time,

Fill'd up with horror, and big with death." — Addison's CatO»

" They
Can pray upon occasion, talk like Heaven,
Turn up their goggling eye-balls, rail at vice,
Dissemble, lie, and preach like any priest. " — Olway's Orphean,

"When devils do their blackest sins put on,

They do suggest at first with heavenly show." — Othello.

" For though usurpers may rule the while,

The heavens are just, and time suppresseth wrongs." — Shaksj>ear&

"Let such as deem it glory to destroy,

Eush into blood, the sack of cities seek ;

Unpierc'd, exulting in the widow's wail,

The virgin's shriek, and infant's trembling cry." — Thomson's Seasons,

" "Where cattle pastured late, now scattered lies,

"With carcasses and arms, the ensanguined field

Deserted." — Milton's Paradise Zosl.

"No blood-stained victory, in story bright,

Can give the philosophic mind delight ;

No triumph please, while rage and death destroy ;

Reflection sickens at the monstrous joy." — Bloonifield's Farmers' Boy.

"Now usurpation, that eternal slave

To fear, tho tyrant's greater tyrant, dyes

Her thirsty purple deep in native blood." — Jeffery's Edwin*

234

HEATHEN GENERALS AND CHRISTIAN MINISTERS.

[May,

HEATHEN GENERALS AND OUR CHRISTIAN MINISTERS COMPARED.

A great number of the Republican
papers are raving like hungry tigers
at Horace Greeley, because he con-
fesses he is sick of the slaughter and
desolation of this war. The clergy,
too, howl like wolves at the bare men-
tion of putting a stop to the horrible
shedding of blood. What fiends ! In
all ages, even in those less civilized
than ours claims to be, great and good
men have depricated the existence of
war as the greatest scourge that can
curse a people. The bad only have
rejoiced in its existence. What a
frightful picture does Pliny give of
war ! He says : " In time of war,
justice and humanity are set aside,
and rapine reigns ; luxury is set at li-
berty, the most impious are in authori-
ty, the virtuous are oppressed, inno-
cence is destroyed ; virgins and ma-
trons are violated ; countries laid
waste, houses burned, temples demol-
ished, sepulchres of the dead erased ;
all manner of crimes are committed
with impunity. Murders, parricides,
rapes, incests, sacrilege, are regarded
but as common actions. All laws,
both human and divine, are trampled
on, and man seems to be governed by
no other precept "than his own vora-
cious, unbounded will." Such was a
heathen writer's horror of war two
thousand years ago. One might think
that he had his eye upon our country
at the present moment. What a con-
trast is the spirit of this heathen to
that of the Christian clergy of our
time. We should take him for the
Christian, and these ministers for the

heathens. The greatest of the Athe-
nian generals, Phocian, did all he could
to prevent his people from declaring
war against the Macedonians ; and
when some, who dissented from him,
asked him when he would have them
make war, answered : " When the
young man shall become grave and
deliberate, when the rich shall volun-
tarilly contribute to relieve the neces-
sities of the poor, and when the ora-
tors shall refrain speaking in public."
That is, this great and humane gene-
ral would have them declare war ne-
ver. It was his wish never to light in
an aggressive war. We look back to
his time and call him a " heathen," but
how much better was he than the
throng of war-howling saints of this
day ! The Emperor Augustus said
that " To render were a benefit ; it
ought to be commended by the gods,
and justified by the philosophers." A
philosopher having written a treatise
on Justice, dedicated it to the great
Antigonus, who gave the author this
reply : " Thou art in the wrong, my
friend, to make me the patron of Jus-
tice, who, as thou seest, am now in-
vading the rights of others." This
king was a " heathen," was he ? Would
to God that Abraham Lincoln had a
thousandth part of the divine justice
and goodness of his nature.

The great general Narses, who con-
quered the Goths, and a great part of
Germany, never gave battle to his
enemy without passing the previous
night in tears before tha battle —ano-
ther " heathen 1" The Emperor Theo-

1865.]

HEATHEN GENERALS AND CHRISTIAN MINISTERS.

235

dorus, whenever he besieged a town,
gave orders to his army never to com-
mence an assault until they had been
before the place ten days, to allow
them to capitulate, or to provide for
the safety of their women and chil-
dren— Another " heathen I"

When Leosthenes had persuaded the
Athenians to go to war, contrary to
the advice of Phocian, he asked this
great general, with a sneering air,
what good he had done his country
while he had been general of its forces?
Phocian replied : " more than ever
thou wilt, for I have allowed its citi-
zens to be honorably buried in the se-
pulchres of their fathers, instead of
their bones being scattered in san-
guinary fields." Certainly these hea-
thens lived and talked like Christians,
while the Christians of our country
talk and act like " heathens." Some
time ago a minister in New Hampshire
received great praise in all the Repub-
lican papers, for leaning over the pul-
pit, and, aiming his arm like a gun at
the audience, telling some soldiers that
they must be sure and " shoot the re-
bels straight through the heart." Said
Bcecher, " we want more bloodshed.
Blood is the wine of the nations. God
feeds them on blood." This brutal sen-
tence was applauded, even on a Sab-
batty evening, in the Church of the Pu-
ritans in Brooklyn. Again, the same
" Christian minister" said : " A Sharp's
rifle is the true moral agency, the real
gospel of freedom." Still again, this
bloody priest of the Temple of Mars
says : " The peace-prater's cry is ' the
Union as it was.' It is a fool's cry,
and none but fools will utter it." Thus
does the pulpit not only sneer at peace,
but proclaims every man a fool who
sighs for peace and the old Union to-

gether. If this clerical blasphemer
would read his Bible, it would tell him
that " whoso calleth his brother a fool
shall be in danger of hell-fire." 0, the
roasting which these pulpit demons
will get when they go to their final
account ! The Rev. Dr. Bellows, a
leading Unitarian minister, who is,
like Beecher, of the New England Pu-
ritan stock, utters such language as
the following in his sermons : " I as-
sume that this is a war for the subju-
gation or extermination ot all persons
who wish to maintain the slave pow-
er." That is, all persons who believe
in sustaining the Constitution as it
was formed by our fathers, are to be
•' subjugated or exterminated!" That
is a specimen of gospel preaching ! The
wretch has mistaken his calling. He
should have been a butcher in one of
the meat-shops of the cannibals of
Africa. Take another specimen from
the Rev. Mr. Huval : " I sincerely hope
that civil war may soon burst upon the
country. * * And when the time
arrives for the streets to run with
blood to the horses bridles, if 1 am liv-
ing there will be one heart to rejoice

at the retributive justice of Heaven."
This was uttered several years before
the beginning of this war. When it
came it had been long prayed for and
preached for by the clergy of the North.
We ask the reader to compare the ex-
tracts we have given from heathen ge-
nerals, who lived before the Christian
era, with those of the so-called Chris-
tian ministers of our day. These ex-
tracts might be multiplied to the di-
mensions of a book. What mockery !
what impudence ! what blasphemy !
for these disciples of blood to call
themselves preachers of the " gospel
of peace I" What a sin for any true
Christian to sit, for even live minutes,
under the preaching of such impostors
and hypocrites I

286

LINCOLN AND MAXIMILIAN.

[May, 1865.]

LINCOLN AND MAXIMILIAN.

Mr. Lincoln, unhappy man, has seve-
ral very big elephants on his hands
just now, among which is Maximilian,
the Emperor of the Republic of Mexi-
co. Mr. Lincoln wants to recognize
Maximilian's government. It is most
important, for the success of his own
plans in relation to the subversion of
the republican form of government in
this country, that an empire should
overthrow the republic of Mexico. It
is not only important, it may indeed
be necessary. For should the people
of Mexico succeed in re-settling the
republic on a firm basis, the Austrian
principle of consolidated despotism,
which Lincoln is trying to fasten upon
us, would receive a death-blow here.
An empire in Mexico is therefore a very
essential companion to Mr. Lincoln's
plans. He is, by the force of his own
designs, a friend to an empire in Mex-
ico, triadly would he recognize it ;
but he hesitates. He knows that the
masses of the American people are
friends of what is known as the Mon-
roe doctrine. He fears that the Demo-
cratic party will run up the standard
of that doctrine, and rally the people
so powerfully to its support that his
administration will fall under the
mighty pressure of that popular sen-
timent. For the success of his own
scheme, he feels that he must recog-
nize Maximilian ; and yet, to preserve
his administration from disgrace, he
hesitates. The thing which he has
made up his mind to do, he dare not
do. That which he has promised to do
he shrinks from. He holds back ; he

postpones; but he only postpones.
The question is, will Napoleon and
Maximilian be postponed ? Will they
wait for him to experiment in the busi-
ness of overcoming the popular senti-
ment on this subject ? Maximilian's
temper is yet to be proved ; but we
know that Napoleon is not a man to
be trifled with. Mr. Lincoln, there-
fore, must recognize the government
of Maximilian, or take certain unplea-
sant foreign consequences ; and if he
does recognize it, he dreads certain
very unpleasant consequences at home.
Mr. Seward's genius for equivocating
and deceiving, if we do not say for ly-
ing, will be taxed to its utmost to get
an extension of time in which to for-
mally recognize the new empire. In
the meantime his newspaper organs
will take such a course as it is sup-
posed will quiet the popular demands
in relation to the Monroe doctrine.
Somebody is to be cheated ; and that
somebody is our own people. Mr.
Lincoln's great concern just now is to
prevent that cheat from being discov-
ered by the people, befor his plans are
sufficiently ripe to enable him to defy
their disappointment and wrath.

In the meantime hundreds of thou-
sands of the very best portion of the
Northern people have their eyes and
their hearts fixed on Mexico, as a re-
fuge from the abhorred contact with
the negroized puritanism which has de-
stroyed our country. Led on by the
thought of Mexico and liberty, they
would gladly leave puritanism and des-
potism behind them forever I

EDITOE'S TABLE.

— Miscegenation flourishes badly in Bergen
County, New Jersey. A negro, by the name
of Moor, for paying his suit to a Mrs. Van
Horn, (white woman, ) was lately tarred and
feathered, and ridden several miles on a rail.
When let loose, as he approached his home,
his father came near shooting him for the
devil. The women of the place have warned
Mrs. Van Horn that she must leave within a
stated time, or they will give her a spring
suit of tar and feathers also. Is not this a
subject for a bill in Congress? Will Sumner
rest quiet under such an insult to the "wrong-
ed race ?" One of the editors of the New
York Tribune has colonized Bergen County
with himself, with a view, we suppose, of
being a missionary among the Copperheads.
This case, right under his very nose, shows,
to say the least, but a very indifferent suc-
cess in converting the Bergenders.

— The following, from Punch, has a lesson
for our negro elevators, who are not in the
least concerned at the depression and misery
of poor white people :

YOUE OWN LITTLE BLACK.

Ain't I black enough to be cared for ?

I'm not a black nigger 'tis true,
As armies and fleets is prepared for,

And missionaries is sent to.
But I'm black as dirt can well make me,

And if, by the look of my skin,

You'd nigh for a blackamore take me,

I ain't much lighter within.

Although I'm no nigger, I look it,
And haven't been no better taught
an, seein' a Bobby, to hook it,
In course, to avoid bein' caught,

We're very much like one another,
We are, artcr all's said and done.

If ho is a man and a brother,
Why, ain't I a boy and a son?

And 'as to his place in creation,
No doubt my own is tho same,
Young monkey without eddication ;

And who aro the parties to blame?

But while, for all washin' an' rabbin',

The nigger a nigger will be,
Your honors, with some little scrubbing

May make a white Christian of me ?

— A California editor, who bespatters Miss
Heron with a nauseating amount of senseless
praise, winds up by saying " the critic should
approach her with awe." Yea, he might say
with fear and trembling, if he has the least
dread of finger nails before his eyes. Miss
Heron has some talent — not much — but not
a particle of genius. We have never seen
her rise an inch above bare respectability in
any part except that of Camille ; and even in
that we failed to discover genius, except a
certain cleverness of imitation. All the best
points of Miss Heron's Camille we have seen
on the stage in Paris, where we are sure "the
Heron" found them. They have gained no-
thing, but rather lost, in their voyage across
the ocean. Of Miss Heron, in this play, the
California critic says : " We know that it is
above criticism, for we, poor critics, are hid
and blind in the earth, like moles, as we
are, while she soars to the Empyrean, looks
the sun in the face, and does not blink. She
need not, for she is "kindred fire," What
is strange is, that this critic, this "mole," who
has such a perfectly just appreciation of his
own powers, should be such a fool in rela-
tion to those of this actress. It is an unfor-
tunate thing for a lady when her lover turns
critic — particularly if that lover is a fool.

— Some of our exchanges complain that
James Guthrie, ex-Treasurer of the United
States, is placed at the tail end of the Senate
Committee on Finance. Perfectly right, for
Guthrie had placed himself at the tail end of
all society by his unnatural support oi tho
Abolition war.

— Mr. Lincoln thinks that the South daro
not arm the "slaves," because " history no
where gives us an account of slaves fighting
for their masters." It is an illustration of
tho saying that "an ignoramus never opens

238

editor's table.

[May,

his mouth but to show his teeth." The Par-
thians armed forty-five thousand slaves, who
served faithfully under four hundred free
men, against Mark Anthony. If Mr. Lin-
coln only had read history, he would find that
millions of slaves have served with distin-
guished devotion in the armies of their mas-
ters. During the great military period of the
Roman empire, three-fourths of its inhabit-
ants were slaves. Some time ago Mr. Lin-
coln said he was ' ' making history ;" and a
very impudent and lying history it is. At
the most prosperous time of Athens, there
were only twenty thousand citizens to four
hundred thousand slaves ; and these slaves
often fought for their masters. What will
Lincoln do with that history ?

■ — In the French Senate, on a late occasion,
the Marquis De Boissy called the armies of
this country " an army of five or six hundred
thousand scoundrels." We blame the French
Marquis ; but is the opinion of the most en-
lightened men throughout the civilized world
different from his ? We have made war like
savages, in total contempt of the laws of civ-
ilized warfare, and as long as history lasts
our name will be connected with the idea of
brutality, cruelty, and plunder. But it is not
the American people. It is the ever to be
abhorred puritanism.

— Eev. Mr. Osgood, a Unitarian preacher
of the New England persuasion, delivered
an address in this city on Washington's birth-
day, in which he ventilated the abominable
nonsense of the spiritual rappers, in a way
that proved him to be also of that persua-
sion of lunatics or impostors. He said :

"In 1861, Washington has been complet-
ing his cycle of military and civic influence
at once, by strengthening our national de-
fence, and maturing our national power.
There is something remarkable in this union
of military daring with civic wisdom in our
people under his lead. Washington stood
by Anderson when he raised the Stars and
Stripes on Fort Sumter in 1861 ; and Wash-
ington was with Gil more last Saturday when
he put that good old flag there once more.
(Applause. ) He was with Abraham Lincoln
when he called the nation to avenge the in-
sult to our banner, and recover our stolen
forts, storehouses and treasure. He was
with Butler at New Orleans," &c.

To make Washington responsible for the
blunders, savagery, and downright brutality,
of our part of this atrocious war, one would
think was bad enough ; but to go further,
and accuse him of keeping the company of
Ben Butler at New Orleans, in his career
of theft, murder, and every other crime
known in the history of piracy, is a degree
of abomination which ought to doom this
clerical wretch to the moral and social hell
which Butler has prepared for his own name
forever. To make Washington a compa-
nion of the cruelty and theft of Ben
Butler, exceeds anything we have heard from
even Beecher, Cheever, and Anna Dickinson.
Some of Osgood's friends think that the spi-
ritual rapping women have crazed him ; we
hope it is true, for that would save the man
from the charge of being a scoundrel at
heart.

— A cotemporary accuses us of underrat-
ing certain of our poets. We underrate no
poet ; but we do not call these word-mong-
ers, and mere rhymers, poets. A man may
be a fine rhymer and a mean poet. Or he
may be a careless rhymer and a great poet.
Voltaire once said, "Rousseau despises me
because I am careless in my rhymes ; and I
despise Rousseau because he -is only a rhy-
mer." The mere rhymer is far enough from
being a poet. It takes something besides a
fondness for negroes, and an aptness at
rhymes, to make a poet.

— A writer in the Boston Advertiser shows
off Mr. Lincoln as quoting from Montes-
quieu's Spirit of Laws, where that author
laments the blindness of Francis the First
in rejecting the proposal of Columbus to dis-
cover this continent. Now, who believes
that Lincoln ever heard of Montesquieu's
Spirit of Laws? It is, however, unfortu-
nately true that the quotation this ignoramus
makes is actually in Montesquieu's book,
notwithstanding Columbus discovered this
continent before Francis the First was born.
But of that fact we suppose Mr. Lincoln to
be as ignorant as we imagine him to be of
the works of Montesquieu.

— The question, which of the New York
dailies is edited by a man who boards in the
Bloomingdale Insane Asylum, we think is
solved by the following from the World

1865.]

editor's table.

239

* ' When thoroughly educated in the State
rights (not State sovereignty) creed," &c.
This genius appears to be a believer in
State rights, but 'not in State sovereignty,
lie probably thinks the rights of the States
are those of subjects, not of sovereigns.

— We notice that many of our exchanges
have contracted a bad habit of spelling An-
dy Johnson, Brandy Johnson. Is it right
thus to trifle with the name of the worthy
representative man of the Republican par-
ty ? Andy and Brandy may be synonomous,
but to tell the naked truth is not always
agreeable to the morality of the Eepublicans.

— It looks now as though an immense emi-
gration would, before long, leave this coun-
try for Mexico. Mexico and Maximilian

sounds amazingly like makes-a-go and makes-
a-million. Cheerful words, certainly.

— The Philadelphia Press accuses the "re-
bels" of "whistling over their victories in
North Carolina," We have blowed a good
deal over victories which we have and have
not obtained. Of the two, we have, per-
haps, bJowed the hardest over those we ne-
ver did achieve, except in the "Government
telegraph."

— The following lines of a 'recruit" are
graphic, if not elegant. We advise every
man who voted for Lincoln not to read them,
but to go at once to the war. Those who did
not vote for him may commit them to mem-
ory, and act fully up to their letter and spi-
rit :

To go, or not to go ; that is the question •
Whether it pays best to suffer pestering
By idle girls and garrulous old women,
Or to take up arms against a host of "reb-
els ;"
And by opposing get killed— to die, to sleep,
(Git eout) and in this sleep to say we "sink
To rest by all our country's wishes blest,"
And live forever — (that's a consummation
Just what I'm after.) To march, to fight-
To fight ! Fcrchanco to die ; ayo, there's

the rub !
For while I'm asleep who'd take care of Mary
And the babes— when Bill is in the lower

ground,
Who'd feed 'em, hey? There's the respect
I have for them that makes life sweet ;
For who would bear the bag to mill,

Plow Dobbin, cut the wheat, dig taters,
Kill hogs, and do all sorts of drudgery,
If I am fool enough to get a "rebel"
Bullet on the brain? Who'd cry for me ?
Would patriotism pay my debts when dead ?
But oh ! the dread of something after death;
That undiscovered fellow who'd court Mary,
And do my huggin' — that's agony,
And makes me want to stay at home,
'Specially as I ain't mad with nobody.
Shells and bullets makes cowards of us all,
And blam'd my skin if snortin' steeds,
And pomp and circumstance of war,
Are to be compared with feather bed,
And Mary by my side.

— There is a "Golden Eule Oil Company"
in Philadelphia, in which the shares are ten
cents ! We know nothing of its merits, but
if it is not an impudent swindle, we shall be
compelled to confess that " appearances are
deceitful." It certainly has the ear-marks
of a rascal. Golden Bule Oil Company!
Shares ten cents ! Does it not look like a
scheme to swindle the foolish and the poor?

— The people of Nashville, Tennessee, are
much to be pitied. Their Governor, Andy
Johnson, was a drunken boor ; their present
Governor, Parson Brownlow, is a brutal mad
man. If the Aboliti on army were withdrawn,
neither of these specimens of debased hu-
manity could live an hour among the people
they "govern."

— An army correspondent says, "it is
characteristic with our generals to affect great
contempt for literary men, and especially for
poets." And the poets seem to return the
contempt, with interest, in their contempt of
generals. Sir William Temple says: "Of
all the numbers of mankind that live within
the compass of a thousand years, for one
man that is bom capable of making a great
poet, there may be a thousand born capable
of making as great generals or ministers of
State as the most renowned in story." For
tho space of three hundred years Greece pro-
duced only one Homer ; but in that time she
gave birth to we know not how many hun-
dreds of great generals.

—Tho great number of Abolition tracts
and political pamphlets reminds one of the
toads and vermin that once afflioted poor

old Egypt.

warn - aram

Just as we go to press, the terrible |
news of the assassination of Mr. Lin
coin is received in this city. It cannot
fail to fill every heart with horror and
alarm. An assassin is justly held to
be the foe of mankind, and every man
is interested in his detection and pun- J
ishment. Nor do we disguise our con-
viction that the death of Mr. Lincoln is
the greatest calamity to our country.
It is generally believed that he had J
fully settled upon a policy which would
speedily end our civil strife, and give
rest to our bleeding land. There was 1
a smile of hope and peace on the face
of the whole country, and thousands
who had never expected pacification to
come from him, began to regard him
with feelings of approving expecta-
tion, when he was struck down by the |
assassin's hand. The blow was as
blind as it was great in the enormity |
of its crime. A President, like the
humblest individual in society, is ame- j
nable to law for any wrongs he may
commit, and it is to this arbiter that
we have always appealed.

What effect his tragical death will
have, it must remain for time to tell.
| Generally fanaticism is embittered and
increased by the attack of its antago-
nists upon it, but in this instance it
does not seem possible to give it that
direction. Booth, if he were the assas-
sin, cannot be accused of devotion to
"the slave power," which Abolition
regards as its mortal enemy. He pro-
bably never owned a negro, never
wished to, and may be regarded as far
more of a northern than a southern
man. What motive inspired him to

the commission of the awful crime, can
be known only to him who sees the

hearts of all men. It stands recorded
on the pages of American history, ne-
ver to be effaced while time lasts. The
most we can do is to execrate the
crime, punish its authors, and deplore
the condition of the country, fervently
hoping and praying that the sad event
may be over-ruled for the good of our
suffering land, and that it may be ex-
empt from any similar occurrence, now*
henceforth, and forever !

THE OLD GUARD,

A MONTHLY JOURNAL, DEVOTED TO THE PRINCIPLES OP 1776 AND 1787.

VOLUME III. — JUNE, 1865. — No. VI.

UNION— DISUNION— REUNION.

We are at this moment in great dan-
ger of political ruin, and indeed social
disintegration ; but we have also ar-
rived at a stand-point from which we
may see the dangers, and avoiding
them, restore our shattered political
system, and again advance harmo-
niously and gloriously a united people,
in the fulfillment of our mission as the
advanced guard of modern civiliza-
tion.

The greatest evil of the hour is the
wide-spread misconceptions prevalent,
individual, partisan, and sectional, and
as always in revolutionary and excit-
ing times, multitudes of men are ready
to destroy each other, while really,
though blindly, desiring the same ulti-
mate object. There can be no doubt
that a vast and overwhelming majority
of Americans do now, and have clear
through the bloody trials of the past
four years, desired the "Union" — the
condition or thing which for eighty
years was so identified with their pros-
perity, freedom and happiness, but the
means or mode of realizing this " Union"
is intepreted indefinitely, in not only
parties and sections, but scarcely two

individual citizens have exactly the
same notions on the subject. Indeed,
it is certain that the Abolitionists, per
se, are the only considerable body in
the country, North, or South, that have
clear, defined, and absolutely deter-
mined " principles n or purposes in
view. They believe that negroes are
black-white men, or " colored men," with

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